Behind the Scenes
by Aranel Naur
Summary: The Takahashi brothers' secrets revealed, what has been cut from the anime is shown in this story, a missing-scenes fic with Initial D characters yaoi episodes
1. The Beginning

**Disclaimer: I don't own the Takahashi brothers or any other character, if I did, I'd not be writing this, I'd be making videos and uploading them on u-tube**

**Rating: M (language; since it's supposed to be a looooong story, I guess a good many different things may happen, and I bet you know what I mean by 'different')**

**Author's notes: I don't know how far it will go, how far my fantasy and dreams will lead me, don't know how many chapters there's gonna be, don't even know how often I'll be able to update. Anyway, have patience, my dear reader, some day it'll have one short word 'owari' at the end**

**The two brothers, their parents, friends, people they meet, habits and behavior may not coincide with what is shown in the anime and told in the manga, the fic is purely my POV on the events, and contains lots of missing-scenes, hence its title**

**Also, forgive me for possible mistakes and don't forget to read and review.

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**BEHIND THE SCENES**

**Part One**

_**I. The Beginning**_

"Oi, Aniki, you think the dumbasses will make it, huh?"

A tall blond-haired guy dangled the keys in his pocket before protruding them and sticking into the keyhole afterwards. The lock clicked twice and the door gave in, letting the two young men enter the spacious hall of the house.

Their stance and looks, movements and speech had one and the same effect on all and sundry – they screamed money, chic and sheltered life. Les garçons riches, as the French would say.

"Don't you find it high time you got a curse book, Keisuke?" the second man commented on his brother's question, obviously irritated by the cuss word used.

"I have a course book, what's wrong with it?" the addressed one wondered not seeing the point.

"Ah, forget it," the dark-haired guy dropped the subject even more upset at how dim the younger was at times as to miss the difference between the two sounds.

Witty phrases Keisuke spouted were not at all bad, but spicing them up with never-ceasing swear words got on his nerves.

Meanwhile said blond was already helping himself to some hard drink, waste of time never among his habits. Whatever were his previous activities he would come home and set off to the bar immediately, finding alcohol one of the best ways to unwind. These were apparently their father's genes since he never stood against a couple of shots, or even more than a couple. Keisuke's appearance, however, reminded that of their mother, always energetic, tornado-like woman with hundreds of important things to do here and there and everywhere, while in reality there were hardly one or two truly urgent matters, all the rest proving minor. Impulsive, imprudent, impatient, immature – the list of 'im's' lasted on and on as year after year Keisuke added more and more 'im's' to his personality, and now by the age of 21 he's collected a good many not-so-favorable traits of character, much to the other family members' frustration.

The second of the two brothers, Ryousuke, two years senior, was born a complete opposite: perfectly-built, rather pale in the face, with excellent manners and obsessed with cleanliness, the raven-haired man was usually calm, controlled, admiring peace and quiet after a busy day; reliable, responsible, respectful – this case of 're's' seeming much more pleasant to deal with in all his forms, all meanings of this expression. Once called genius, he wasn't going to argue it, thinking the nickname flattering and nice to hear. Unlike Keisuke, the elder of the kyoudai was good at any occupation he took up, whatever field he studied, deciding to engage in biology in the end, thus laying hope for entering a medical university. Not that medicine attracted him more than other subjects, nor was he naturally gifted at human anatomy to make it his cup of tea - it was so because his father had said so; the head Takahashi needed a son to become his right hand at his clinic. Like it or lump it, the genius's destiny was quite predetermined as he was brought up to become a doctor. Once made, the decision was not negotiable.

The two of them got enough financial means from dear mommy and daddy to be called spoiled, or more precisely, spoiled brats, as their numerous acquaintances preferred to call them(while the brats themselves were not around, of course). Always with money on them, often more than absolutely necessary, always dressed with the latest fashion, not too flashy but clearly different from what others wore, always good-looking, a bit too perfect for their own good, with their personal secrets of instantaneous fascinating and seducing people, always having new models of cell phones, bright glistening things everyone in their circle jealous of, simple little objects arising so much envy, girls especially pry where the phones went after the brothers bought next ones. They seemed to never stop and be living life to the fullest, visiting clubs and parties to glow and shine and impress the public, they were changing and their road was never straight with its twists and turns high and low. There was one thing, however, the seldom-separating kyoudai were faithful to. Their passion for cars, road racing, mountain drifting was that very joint. Although different in appearance and nature, Ryousuke and Keisuke had this favorite topic they could discuss for hours on end.

Being racers themselves, they took part in competitions, challenging local celebrities, winning contest after contest, victory floating by their side. Well-tuned cars, high octane petrol together with first-class drivers and crew provided them with huge success all around the neighborhood, setting the Akagi Redsuns – their name – high on the list of unbeatable teams, giving them fame and popularity and all the good things therefore. With each next race won, each rival defeated, each corner brilliantly tackled came recognition of them as stars.

The legendary Takahashi kyoudai, that was their story. The everlasting dream of local paparazzi and stalkers, both creeping on the guys only to get nothing, the security system of the Takahashis' mansion like that of famous rock singers or Hollywood actors. The two cared little about what crazy reporters and not-less-crazy fans said about them, either in lousy papers or in the streets, what they cared about was racing, impossible without a full tank of gasoline and their impeccable Mazdas, Keisuke's yellow FD being the centre of overall attention wherever he chose to go, Ryousuke's white FC, however outdated, striking with its speed, helping the man gain yet another nickname of the White Comet. Nevertheless, both were happy to lead the lives of well-off boys, amusing and having fun, finding their early twenties the most exciting period, and their age most suitable for entertainment.

" 'd you like anything to drink, aniki?"

The younger was unbearable as he got on Ryousuke's nerves every so often with his constant repetition of the 'aniki' word after almost every sentence addressed to him; but on the other hand, occasionally it pleased him, for he saw how fraternally-tenderly Keisuke treated him.

Hearing no reply, the younger helped himself to a next portion of whiskey, the drink he, for some odd reason, had taken to, hoping to encourage his dear brother to another prank,

"A cigarette then? You seem somewhat tense."

"I don't smoke," Ryousuke chopped it off.

"Since when?" he stared at the guy, astounded to receive such a response, knowing his brother has been smoking for ages.

"Since then," another harshness to assure Keisuke he was in no mood for any of his little mischieves; instead, he sat down on the plush sofa in front of the TV set.

And while the blond continued staring at him with a glass glued to his palm, Ryousuke explained,

"It's not porch or balcony, you can't smoke in here."

He stressed the last word as a clear hint for Keisuke to not even pick up a lighter.

"Oh come on, kaa-san and tou-san are out, so what's the problem, aniki? Aniki!" all attempts to attract Ryousuke's attention vain - the elder was already walking off and up the stairs without a glance at the one near the bar-stand.

Ryousuke knew the imp would now curse aloud, hit the half-empty glass against the counter and take the pack of cigarettes back into his pants' pocket - the behavior quite in Keisuke's style. Although self-willed, he wouldn't contradict the authority of his brother, aniki was aniki, he loved him too much to make a scene, perhaps even twice too much.

"Kusou," the young man swore and told Ryousuke. "Bon voyage to your room."

The joke triggered a smirk on the elder's face. There was no doubt they had different approaches to coping with problems, active and passive ways: Keisuke sticking to full oblivion with a bottle, Ryousuke favoring for a serene evening in the company of a book. But there was no way he would let the blond get drunk and set the house on fire. He was a mindful brother, after all, and responsible for the other's actions; besides, he was positive of that, Keisuke would be there in his room in a couple of minutes after the fit of anger subsided and another sip of whiskey taken. 'I don't like good booze wasted,' it was what Keisuke kept saying on a regular basis.

He barely got into his study when the door handle turned – this time without two habitual knocks – and the voice noted,

"Aniki, you are such a turn-on."

Ryousuke pshawed, thinking how silly as well as a little dumb the younger became when under the influence,

"You're quite tipsy, Keisuke," was the response.

The blond meanwhile was dancing across the room, swaying his hips in a girl's fashion. True, he felt really weird when hazy, but it hardly mattered now - Keisuke strong and almighty after two-plus whiskey's, the brown liquid setting him on top of the world where he stayed brave and courageous for a good couple of hours until inevitably going downhill, returning to the previous state as soon as alcohol lost its effect, the condition he despised the most.

"I'm pretending I'm a scared kid who came to share one bed with dear brother," Keisuke went in circles about the room, craving for attention.

"We never shared one bed, not even one room, our parents rich enough to get us different places in the house," Ryousuke made it clear, although what he said was as plain as day. "I can see you off to your bedroom in case you forget where it is. Not too far, should you wonder."

"Yamete aniki!" Keisuke might have been out of his head but not completely, so he did not miss the mockery.

For Ryousuke he has always been a younger brother, foolish, naïve sometimes; for him the elder still remained a goal, a mountain peak to climb to, meaning both his driving skills and something else, that very 'something else' he feared to reveal to himself, let alone relatives or friends.

"Look, Keisuke, could you simply leave, or else I'll have to use air-freshener since you've been staying here for too long, and I don't want to die of alcoholic vapors coming from you."

Seeing no reaction from the other, he added in a sterner tone,

"Or air-gun."

Grudgingly the stinking obstacle dragged his feet back to the door, catching Ryousuke's parting words,

"Have a good nourishing dinner, then go for a walk, and then take a shower, then go to bed and sleep well. Until you grow up I'll keep on treating you like an infant, seeing nothing but a naughty five-year-old instead of what you should be, an adult."

With a very deep sigh the blond Takahashi exited the study, upset and grumbling as he descended the stairs in slow lazy steps, directing towards the bar,

"A naughty five-year-old… That's my only problem aniki, my only problem."


	2. A Little bit of Privacy

**Author's note:** no blood, rape or prostitution in this chapter, only some shounen-ai

This edited version of the chapter doesn't make me feel as disgusted as the un-edited

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_**II. A little bit of Privacy**_

Next morning met him with a splitting headache and terrible thirst, reminding about how he had spent the previous night in Nikka Whisky's company.

"One too many, I suppose?"

"Huh?" Keisuke would startle under usual circumstances, but his present condition allowed him not more than a stifled interjection and a half-turn of his head.

Standing beside the door was his brother, arms crossed on his chest, face expressionless, as usual. Keisuke had difficulty with articulation, hangover making him dim-witted at times. Frankly speaking, rarely did he suffer from the consequences of too much drinking the night before, this time, however, he had really lost count to the number of glassfuls gulped. Fragments of the past were a rather disgusting picture, and it was hard for him to restore the right order of the events, but there was someone who was there to help with it, and this very someone was waiting patiently at his bed.

"Poor kid, no glee of the past night?"

"Aaaaaah, stop jibing, aniki! Leave this pathos of yours for somebody else," he drawled. "My head gonna burst in thousand pieces and make a hell of this place."

"Thought it was already such," the elder sibling mentioned aware what a slob Keisuke was. "You know I discovered mildew in your room the other day. Do you actually know what mildew is? Mildew is a fungus. It grows most extensively in warm, humid environments. Most growth occurs at temperatures of 75 degrees to 85 degrees Fahrenheit. Want some information about dust found in every corner and on each item in here? Dust in homes, offices, and other human environment is mainly generated by humans from their skin cells that slough off. It is estimated that the entire outer layer of skin is shed every day or two at a rate of seven million skin flakes per minute. Tests of indoor environmental dust in homes and offices have shown it to be primarily, around seventy to ninety per cent composed of skin flakes, assuming-

"Enough!" he raised one hand as a sign for Ryousuke to stop this biology lesson. The usual let-me-teach-you-something stuff got on his nerves, especially now that he felt so sick. "Whaffor you came?"

Ryousuke winced at his brother's poor grammar,

"To look at my stinking otouto and warn him lest he should forget about the important meeting planned."

"You don hafta talk to me in such formal tone, Mr. Perfect," he said, taking a look at the clock, 12:32 stared back at him in bright orange, both time and color irritating him.

"So… none of my before-bedtime instructions? A walk, a ? the elder's eyebrow moved upwards as he wondered.

"Not a single one," with a wide yawn the guy got up, wrapping himself up in the white bedsheet coming up to the more sober of them. "Kaa-san, tou-san home?"

A shake of his head in reply.

"Good," Keisuke went past the visitor, wishing to get rid of the aftereffect with the help of a shower as quickly as possible. With a sudden 'Ah!' he stopped by the door centimeters away from Ryousuke, curiosity on his sour face. "Aniki, by the way, what would they say if I told them I'm gay?"

Ryousuke, seldom showing surprise or shock at anything Keisuke said, kept quiet, digesting the information, thinking up a reasonable answer, common sense handy,

"They would understand… some day. I would say it's your choice, I wouldn't blame you."

"Sou ka," Keisuke narrowed his eyelids before finally leaving the room for a good 20-minute shower to wash off all the smelly remains of sweat-and-whisky-and-tobacco aftertaste. He'd better be quick, their parents might soon come back. That was, he thought on his way to the bathroom, why Ryousuke had come to his bedroom - wake him up before the other two returned and saw him in this wretched state.

"Great," Keisuke confessed to himself. "I looked so clownish in front of him and he's asking me to grow up! Um, at least he's not against my sexual preferences, that's something to start with."

The blond put off the sheet and hung it on a hook on the wall, then glanced in the mirror, where a pitiful view met him,

"Bad", snapped the guy dissatisfied with the reflection; he stepped into the shower cabin and under the cool jets of comforting water.

The other Takahashi stood still in the same position until his ears caught the sound of running water. He had come here to awaken the younger, speak with him about his unruly conduct, teach him a lesson or two; but Keisuke was in no condition to even form a grammatically correct sentence, so he spared him a long conversation. With a groan he set to tidying up the space: opening the window to air the room (at times Ryousuke called this place den, wondering how his younger could actually live in such a pigsty), collected the clothes scattered over the floor, putting them in a neat pile, picked up crusty chips' packages and other wrappings from the shelves, and wiped away a thick layer of hateful dust from the computer screen. He almost cursed aloud, reproaching Keisuke for his slovenliness.

"Kaa-san's attempts to get him to do his room are vain, tou-san's efforts fail too, so looks like it's my ill-fate," Ryousuke went on cleaning up like a first-rate housekeeper.

When finished, he felt an urge to take a bath for he found himself way stained, and he hurried out of this cave to throw the garbage into the nearest wastebasket which happened to be in the very room where the dear brother was taking a shower at the moment. Ryousuke's idée fixe over cat-clean neatness was a bit over the top, even slightest amount of mud could make him feel so uneasy that the future doctor would go shower himself or wash his hands thoroughly, the habit others found odd.

He headed for the bathroom, hoping to get rid of the trash as soon as possible. The lulling sound of pouring water might have sent Keisuke to sleep, was the dark-haired man's idea as he heard no response after three knocks. The dry wood of the bathroom door resonated it loudly enough for the sound to be caught on the opposite side of the obstruction. Keisuke, nevertheless, gave no answer.

Judging his next action not in the least illegal, Ryousuke made up his mind to turn the handle and get inside, brother was brother, there was nothing to hide from a close one, after all. He hoped the door was not locked, and the blond would not object to seeing him as intruder even if he stood naked in the shower. Without so much as a peek the guy came in, aiming to get to the bin, unload the waste into the container, and leave.

Keisuke was enjoying the water ritual. Discomfort gone when warm gentle streams took away the pain, replacing it with the feeling of sheer pleasure. He could stand like this for another 20 minutes, letting never-ending jets touch his skin, massage his limbs in a needle-like prickling, the process so wonderful he wished it lasted forever. Hands starting to move across the chest on their own, not squeezing, not pinching nor pressing, all looking like unconscious actions, eyes closed, the man deep in the world of fantasies. Fingers brushing against the beautiful belly, putting one palm on the lower part of it while the other continued its clockwise motion as if repeating the movement of a clock hand, long digits barely meeting the two little knobs of pink nipples, before going down to join the left hand and help it tickle the delicate skin of a well-shaped belly. The slow performance seemed to never stop, Keisuke's hands wandering all over his wet body, young and flawless, hot and costly, every curve revealing how much effort it took to bring it to this ideal shape, the chiseled body as an example of refinement and pure perfection.

Yet the guest one felt no embarrassment as he kept scrutinizing his brother's athletic form, his broad shoulders, flat abdomen, slim hips; how well-proportioned he was, surprisingly unlike his built. Curious, Ryousuke compared the differences between Keisuke's and his bodies. After having disposed of the waste, he decided to stay a little longer and watch, the act meaning no perversion or harm. Not that Ryousuke thought he was ugly or disproportionate - the reason was that he felt somewhat shy when it came to undressing in front of others, family members included. His face and body, all photogenic, were the objects of desire and daydream, and still, he never put it up for show, wearing modest clothes, not like these his otouto wore. To the mind of the 23-year-old guy, overly tight denims (that restricted walking) in combination with a leather jacket (with no other clothes underneath it, and which his brother preferred putting on for a night club) seemed far from appropriate and even less than decent. Hopefully, he would soon rid of the biggest part of his wardrobe, using doctor's gowns oftener than his present outfits.

It was not easy to discerned Keisuke's manipulations behind the glass door of the cabin because of steam and drops of water, but he saw Keisuke's body distinctly, experiencing little shame although it's been a while since he last saw him with no clothes on. Water turned off, clean and refreshed, the guy was pleased with the effect a continuous morning shower had on him, and he got ready to leave the cabin. Light chuckling startled him as he turned his head to where the sound came from while Ryousuke thought the blond would fly into a rage upon seeing the spy. He had already invented a smart explanation, none the less.

"Aniki! What are you doing here?" the door ajar, Keisuke peeping through the opening with one eye, no doubt astonished.

"Throwing away loads of garbage from your room, didn't you hear knocking?"

"Usotsuki! Dame da yo!"

"What's wrong?" Ryousuke's smile lingered on his face as he fixed his gaze on Keisuke's surprised eye. "No joking, I did your room and came here for the wastebasket."

His features softened, and he dropped his eyes down at the wriggling toes; if they could blush they would now. He seemed hesitant what he should say to conceal confusion.

"Anou… aniki…"

"Relax, Keisuke," the attentive brother gave him the towel, holding the soft white cloth in his outstretched hand. "And don't you fill yourself up with so much booze at home. If it's OK with me, it's not necessarily so with the others."

"A… arigatou," the guy snatched the towel one-handedly, squeezing it through the small chink, and hurriedly dried himself up while the second continued watching, almost too happy Keisuke didn't get angry (well, maybe just a bit). For a moment he thought about hundreds of squeaking girls storming in droves towards their house to get a chance to see their star in the bathroom, should they be allowed. Ryousuke's smirk chased away this piece of stupidity - he would never let anyone openly contemplate his brother anyway; besides, Keisuke too, might not like crowds of exultant underage females since he had long ago figured he liked men better, or so Ryousuke was led to believe.

"Hmm,"Keisuke, can I ask you something?"

"Carry on," he left the shower cabin, towel around his hips, a bit too low perhaps to cause a gasp from mother and scalding criticism from father; Ryousuke, none the less, confined himself to a noisy swallow.

"Nani ga suki?" a short pause followed. "That is, what are you into? Are you still into boys or-"

"What I had said about me being gay holds true, aniki," Ryousuke didn't have time to finish the question for Keisuke did it for him.

The elder swallowed louder this time, face reddening as blush appeared on his cheeks, suddenly uncomfortable and sweaty upon discussing a topic like this. With nothing to add, he felt awkward.

The native eyes looked into his kindly, as though reassuring, the hands he had been watching were on the toweled hips, tiny drops falling down from Keisuke's golden hair on his nose, rolling downwards along such soft lips and creamy chin, and then, Ryousuke didn't see it but could vividly imagine, dripped on the smooth skin of the muscular chest until getting on the stomach and disappearing under the white fluffy tissue which concealed their farther travel downKeisuke's body, long transparent paths left from the droplets covering his brother's skin, making it so shiny and appetizing, and just to think that somebody else was eager to touch it and has already done it was beyond him, since it looked like he was robbed of his own property. How disgustingly dirty he felt, how easily deceived!

The younger, becalmed, stood in front of the elder, preparing for a regular admonition, while the latter did nothing except staring unblinkingly. Had it something to do with Keisuke's nudity? Things have come to a pretty pass, the former judged, noticing no reaction from the other, who just froze like a one-hundred-and-some-eighty-centimeters ice cube; he waited for any sign of life in this motionless structure named Takahashi Ryousuke. Hands still on his hips, holding the towel in case it made up its artificial mind to unwrap and slip down on the floor, Keisuke could feel streams of water on his moist skin, feel his and Ryousuke's heartbeat, noting uneven rise-fall of their chests, feel the rush along the spine, hear the back of his mind telling him to stay where he was or else things might get worse (which he didn't want at all), feel the warmth of the bodies, so close, and that frightened him, scared more than any nightmare or a horror movie, he was afraid of it since it was reality where there would be no way back once he made a wrong step. His breathing, however hard the guy tried to calm down, might have given him away a long time ago, nervousness caused by Ryousuke's silence only poured oil in the fire, but the blond had to cope with it somehow. Quite a catch-22: he couldn't read aniki's mind to change anything, and at the same time without changing anything he won't be able to understand Ryousuke's thoughts. They've got stuck.

Keisuke pulled himself together to try untangle it,

"Erm… but it's not all I hafta tell you."

"Save it. Don't want to hear."

The bathroom door shut with a violent bang as the elder of the kyoudai left all of a sudden.

They were in a worse mess than Keisuke had assumed, and though he had no idea what it was about, something has definitely got out of control.


	3. Doubts, Confusion, and Loss

**A/n:** none actually, except that this is the edited version of ch. 3

**Warnings:** Keisuke's language

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_**III. Doubts, Confusion, and Loss**_

That night turned out as awful as the afternoon. Although he should have put his whole soul into driving and nothing else, Keisuke felt shattered, and it looked as if each separate cell of his body was not on its proper place, like there was a great disorder inside him, thoughts mingling, mixing, mind hardly focusing on the race, as the boy got one only question in his head – what the hell was wrong. Their discord with Ryousuke has had much influence on him, and he could not fancy what bit of misunderstanding had caused the mayhem. There was nothing but chaos filling him, nothing else.

'Dammit, aniki,' he cursed, bad language as an addiction he wasn't too willing to get rid of. 'I didn't think my words would touch you in this way, and you left without a word, without telling me the reason. What am I, a telepath? Shit, tonight's gonna be draggy.'

His mentioned-for-so-many-times brother was in his opinion now typing in his bedroom, preparing for a gathering on Mt. Akina. An important meeting had been arranged, where local racers would be present, so both Ryousuke and he had better be in a good humor and physical condition for the trip. Things were alright yesterday when they came home after a regular discussion of this-and-that technical stuff with their Akagi crew, two hours of a lively conversation ending in a peaceful drive home. The younger's query whether the fastest representatives of Akina would win had been left unanswered, both of them one hundred per cent sure of their success, no one has ever beaten the RedSuns, no one ever will. Even so, Keisuke felt restless, not certain if he should talk to Ryousuke before or after the journey, so he kept fidgeting, rushing about the house like a headless chicken, scratching his head and sweating, the morning water procedure scarcely of use.

The rules of the game were simple as that: full calmness, total concentration, no odd thoughts; if the rules were obeyed, the team would sweep to victory. Luck has been with them all the time alongside favorable wind. So far so good.

Quiet footsteps on the stairs as a sign the elder arrived. By that time the other had dropped himself in an armchair, but on hearing the sound, Keisuke perched up - Ryousuke was making his way to the kitchen for an eight o'clock glass of orange juice, and the blond followed him with his gaze until he stopped abruptly and said,

"Konban. Juu ji. Akina-san de. Hopefully you didn't forget about it, Keisuke," indifference caught in every undertone of a chilly voice as he reminded about the appointed meeting.

"I remember. Oi, aniki! I gotta tell you," Keisuke guessed another attempt would be more fortunate.

"I told you, save it. I have no desire to discuss things with you. Except for those concerning racing," Ryousuke sounded unusually strict yet controlling his temper. "We don't touch upon anything other than driving. No personal issues. Do what you want, and spare me the stories about your hell of a life, clear?"

Keisuke lowered his head, wishing to escape from this horrid place, the sooner the better, wishing to forget aniki's warning, get into his car and storm off into the darkness of the night, away from the dreadful house. However, he had to force his huge ego, the overgrown 'Me, Myself, and I' to stay and do things required, thrust his impudence into the farthest corner of him, fulfil obligations, commitments, think about what he had been told, in other words, listen, reconcile and comply. Period. 'Ah, aniki is aniki, shut up and nod when asked,' thus Takahashi Keisuke often trained himself.

The elder had already disappeared, leaving him alone with his broodings, obviously displaying no intention to mull over such urgent, to Keisuke's mind, matters. For the rest of the evening the younger sibling kept staring at the digital clock in the living-room, every figure change noticed by his glassy eyes, face angry like that of a devil, fists clenched tightly. He sat there, recalling former races, how optimistic yet not over-ecstatic the two of them were when leaving the house for battles, how united they acted, how wonderfully cooperated every action was performed, plans dovetailing nicely, no hint lost upon each other, all smooth and well-organized. A taken aback blond didn't know what he should do. Inner disarrangement might spoil everything together with the RedSuns' unmatched reputation. "Kusou," the guy swore again, while the observant eye of his brother kept track of every movement he made.

Ryousuke has spent the afternoon locked inside his room, which he preferred to call study since most of his time there he devoted to learning, reading books, encyclopedias and journals, writing papers, filling up forms, doing assignments; preparation for university combined with racer's career often proved too tough because he had to take part in several spheres simultaneously. He knew soon he would have to say goodbye to the biggest hobby of his life no matter how sad it made him feel. This afternoon his occupations were far from routine, though. He sat at the laptop, peering at the black screen of the turned-off computer, hands resting on his lap instead of keyboard, long delicate fingers absently touching the soft fabric of his white pants, while on another occasion they would be frantically running over buttons. Keisuke wondered why it was so important for aniki to study cars or whatever he did via computer, why he was so hooked on his precious laptop, choosing a night with it instead of having fun at a nightclub.

Still, Ryousuke had to admit, the otouto had somewhat dropped partying once he became keen on driving: no more sleepless nights and bruises under his eyes afterwards, no more groaning because of hangover, no more an awful lot of things. Every rule has an exception, and therefore, every now and then he would break loose and indulge himself to the max. 'Fool, he can't grasp it, we're different. Ah, he's incurable,' the driver often smirked as he continued with various charts, schemes, graphs and tables.

This time the situation was of another sort, this time, since the moment he left the bathroom in the morning, Ryousuke has imprisoned himself in his study in order to think, to analyze, to understand. He had played it low-down, lunged out of the room like a psyche after snapping a series of disconnected words, he hadn't even explained himself, acting like an offended child who didn't get a promised cookie. He was feeling really mean at the moment, considering such a conduct of his outrageously inadmissible. Instead of acting like elder brother he switched on a capricious kid. He was born to be responsible; others would not make so much fuss under similar circumstances. He didn't recognize himself.

Ryousuke supposed he had made an error, having stepped into the bathroom in the first place, and he wouldn't be so troubled by remorse if he had kept his sweet mouth shut. Anyway, he would have to get back to the topic later on, what he should do now is work out what had caused such a mad fury in him. All his brother did was take a shower - something he became a witness to - and then he heard about Keisuke's fondness for the same gender. Yet the FC driver reacted as if he had been told the most terrible secret on the planet or found out Keisuke's deadliest sin, an unforgivable crime or something. What was that core point that had caught him off-guard and sent out of the bathroom at a jet-set speed? Subconsciously, he was already aware of what his attitude was based upon, the sudden realization unbelievable, like a thing banned. It struck Ryousuke unexpectedly with a loud bang, so he sat still, regaining control. Then there followed long hours of plain doing nothing, and in the same sitting position the man spent another three hundred minutes until he saw how dark it has gotten in the room, and he looked at the clock on the desk,

'Shichi ji han. Orenji juusu,' Ryousuke remembered.

Unlike Keisuke, he wasn't that worried about the meeting, he could well control emotions when needed, as well as any incidental thought or desire, in this way staying cool, never wearing his heart on the sleeve. The house had a quiet serene atmosphere he liked most of all, kaa-san and tou-san still out, Keisuke keeping unusually peaceful, apparently engaged in an entertaining business of watching TV. 'He may ignore me when I say something,' Ryousuke narrowed his eyes upon spotting the younger downstairs.

The blond, in fact, felt a lot like his brother: sitting motionlessly in an armchair and staring blankly at the opposite wall as though making a scrutiny of each tiny bump or hole in it. 'It's surprising how an easy-goer and a fidget can turn into tranquility personified by the influence of a single remark,' Ryousuke thanked their parents for making Keisuke's nature so flexible, thanking himself too for his own ability to make brother obey, he was lucky to have such a docile sibling. Docile… well, not always.

Keisuke wanted to speak with him, the elder found it not difficult to guess, but he wasn't in the mood to talk the sore topic over again - the time has not come yet.

Once in the kitchen the elder poured a glass of orange juice, the custom he has had for some ten years, 8PM being the time for it. He then sat at the table so that Keisuke wouldn't see him, and fixed his curious eye on him. The one in the living-room didn't stir, and Ryousuke bet he had gotten deaf to sounds, like that of the doorbell or cellphone. He was absorbed in something.

Clock hands tick-tocked, measuring time as it passed implacably minute by minute until waiting got tiresome for the both, the younger on the verge of nervous breakdown unable to go on looking at the wall, Ryousuke bored to death as he lost curiosity almost immediately because the other did nothing extraordinary. For a second he thought it was much more amusing to watch another Keisuke, a drunk Keisuke - at least that one did something, not simply sat frozen in an armchair.

At nine, when the Takahashi got fed up with his tick, he rose from the seat and headed for the garage, his brother already at the door about to slam it.

"Try not to earn a ticket," warned him Ryousuke.

He clearly saw how fussy the other was, so worn-out and broken that it might cause future problems, and that wasn't in Ryousuke's plans of course. He left the house15 minutes later, as usual. No hurry-scurry nor lingering, all movements and actions regular and thought-over. Although trying not to act overprotective he felt he did sometimes, blaming it on his nature. He was afraid Keisuke would not make it to Akina without problems. The RedSuns' rule to arrive at the agreed spot together was always undermined by somebody, and that one who didn't stick to the simple rule, was a wayward blond called Takahashi Keisuke.

'Che, he's 21 and an adult, and I keep nursing with him!' Ryousuke rebuked himself, still worried about a certain Harvey Wallbanger, knowing how reckless brother got when especially angry; enraged, he might run into police or worse than that, a road accident. 'He better be careful since I don't believe in reincarnations.'

Later that night the FC owner met the team-members and his brother, thankfully safe and sound, at the appointed spot, after that they went to meet the locals to arrange the race, if any. The date settled, the battle with the Akina Speedstars fixed on Saturday, 10PM. All went smooth, even flawless on the outside as they talked, argued, smiled and discussed important and minor things; on the inside there traced tension between the Takahashis, but it was none of others' business, so the rest of the group knew they shouldn't interfere.

There was no need for Ryousuke to stay longer that night (for he was not going to take part in the match, relying on Keisuke and his skills), so he left Keisuke practicing for the next Saturday, and drove home. Professional as he was, he had not the slightest interest in the newbies, for him they were too weak, this noticed by his trained eye the first time he saw them. The RedSuns were going to show who the kings on the mountain passes of the Gunma area were, and his younger would beat these Speedstars, for sure.

Next morning, when said guy didn't come home after training, not at four, not at five, the family realized something must have happened, because Keisuke usually returned by that time. They gathered downstairs, alarmed, when the telephone call tore apart the awful silence of the space; walls shaking, ceiling collapsing, windows breaking – it looked like a real earthquake, while it was only in their heads, within the three restless minds.

That very morning the Akagi RedSuns' reputation was shaken, for the first time in their existence. The previous night when Ryousuke rode back to the mansion, so pleased and proud, his brother committed an unpardonable mistake. Unofficially or not, that very morning Keisuke lost.


	4. Misplaced

_**IV. Misplaced**_

The consequences of the lost match were clear for the entire Takahashi family as no one had doubts as to how Keisuke would react to his defeat. Not only had he ruined the stainless name of the rotary engine kyoudai, Ryousuke thought, but also was ruining his own self now. Where? In the nearest-to-Akina bar, in the closest-to-the-doomed-place nightclub, or could he be drinking right in his FD with a beer and a queer, clinging to both with equal lust? The elder of the brothers sniffed at the morbid vision in his head. The voice on the opposite side of the receiver had let them know "Keisuke-san left for a quiet place to stay and think" and after, "Because he was outrun." There followed two seconds of silence, before the second brother snapped his jacket and darted out of the house to search for the lost soul, and try to rescue him. Ryousuke mentally scolded the guy both for the lost battle (although it was not official, yet how could this possibly happen?) and losing himself in alcohol. Somehow he was certain the blond was presently embracing a bottle; his task was to find the place and get him out of the claws of liquor. 'That won't do, you've gone too far. Don't you spoil my plans, Keisuke, I'm not someone to give in to your whims,' the dark-haired man scowled behind the steering wheel, riding along the empty freeway. While mother was wailing, hardly receiving father's solace, Ryousuke wasn't going to be easy on the offender. Another scowl, and he accelerated up to 90 kmph. 'No mercy this time,' he promised.

The underestimated and currently subjected to self-humiliation guy sat crouched in his car, its bright yellow color looking somewhat dirty-green, almost khaki. Broken, crushed, shattered, that was how he felt. Beaten. Yes. But that was no ordinary run, but a true fight, and he wasn't used to defeat, and refused to accept it, only wondering who that lucky bastard was. Keisuke's fault, guilt even, no one else to blame, not the FD, not Ryousuke, Takahashi Keisuke only. Mulling it over, analyzing the other driver's techniques, thinking out each drawback of his own maneuvers - it was no Keisuke's program, it was his brother's. All the younger wanted was understand, hear his inner voice, then follow its precious advice. He thought it too easy and childish to go indulge himself until getting drunk and incapable; the things bars and clubhouses offered, he knew them all backward and forward, and has gotten tired of, as they could hardly rid him of a noose above his head. What was it, just a bad night or lack of skill? 'Shit, I've disgraced RedSuns,' he never felt that nasty. Was the downcast boy in fact aware that it was not the run that was so disgracing but the thoughts he had on his mind?

Three hours later when the two brothers returned home unharmed, there was barely a hint at awkwardness between them; the angry parents met their sons, glad to see them alive (and sober, in Keisuke's case). With false smiles pulled on, the siblings seemed alright, so that even their mother failed to make out artificiality. Masks of pretence and ostentatious radiance put off as soon as the spouses closed the door to their bedroom.

That morning Ryousuke went to bed but hardly had a chance to enjoy his dream, short and restless as it appeared.

Keisuke, in his turn, didn't go to sleep at all, staying downstairs on the couch for slumber never came over him that morning.

If there was a next morning, it wasn't for them. The day was breaking with the red sun, the bright flaming ball rolling up along the variously-colored sky at a slow but steady speed. It was the time when the two were simultaneously thinking about the same thing – Akagi RedSuns. They've put so much of themselves into the words and the team respectively, wanting it to become a legend forever imprinted on people's minds. A flashing, ringing, catchy name once created by Ryousuke. For another two hours they lay motionless, staring into nothingness, feeling of toughness in their stomachs, yet heads were empty as there came no odd thought. Not that their present condition depended entirely on Keisuke's loss, what worried them had nothing to do with the recently-shaken RedSuns status, nor had it anything to do with the family or pastime, friends or hobbies - there was that secret thing between the brothers that no one dared even start thinking about, yet which bothered still further, musings becoming poisonous and killing.

The fire ball was gradually changing its orange and red into a more-familiar-to-the-eye golden, the star, blazing its yellow rays across the gray-blue canvas, decorating the skyline, painting it in miraculous and rare tints and hues, the view so ordinary, so natural for an average person, whilst for a true artist, a connoisseur of beauty it had its own unique charm, the moment of rapture, admiration, delight. Meaning a lot more than creature comforts or physical pleasures or material things, it went deeper right into the bottom of the soul, awaking the sense of beauty.

They both have experienced these breathtaking minutes for many times but ignored them now, finding nothing ever-so special about the sunrise, having learnt there was nothing out of the ordinary in dawn, forgetful why they have chosen 'RedSuns' as the name of the team. It used to mean a great deal back then, in the past, now the hidden meaning lost upon the brothers as they thought of the team as of a mechanism, something that never breaks or goes out of order, both Ryousuke and Keisuke blind to the whole greatness of the word, the material side of the RedSuns attracting more than the name itself; it had come out of nowhere like a sparkle and soon died out and began to sound like any other compound word, nothing beyond seven letters, nothing but an English word pronounced with the Japanese articulation. What it was for others was a way opposite thing - 'RedSuns' sounded like exclamation, it shone, it shimmered, it burnt like the sun. Once seen written on the car, passersby and racers immediately got it that the vehicle belonged to none other than a RedSuns' member; once said aloud, the name caused excitement, and 'wow!'s' , and 'ah!'s', this meaning how popular the rotary engine kyoudai were.

Ryousuke ventured to close his eyes, shifting onto the right side. 'Problem kid, no exaggeration,' ran across his mind as he sighed, summing up things, meanwhile the younger brother tried his hardest to quieten billions of invading ideas, slamming his forehead time and again, this movement of little use, if any.

"Oh Keisuke, honey, you don't look very healthy," the woman came up to her son and chided.

"Oi, kaa-san!" Keisuke hurriedly got up from the sofa, knowing for sure he would have to listen to a couple of lectures concerning his recent offence.

He felt exhausted, lack of sleep and nervousness telling on his actions, ragged and harsh, speech uneven as if he was tongue-tied; he inwardly wished his mom saw his fatigue and unwillingness to answer questions. 'I gotta be evasive,' he decided.

"Anou…" he suddenly felt very uneasy. "Kaa-san, who told aniki where I was? It was a phone call, ne?"

"It doesn't matter, Keisuke. What's done is done, we will talk about it later," the level baritone, whose unmistakable owner no one would confuse, stated, as the elder went down the stairs to break the dialogue just-started.

"No escape from him," Keisuke whispered under his nose, suspecting his brother of eavesdropping.

He often compared Ryousuke to Sherlock Holmes, this type of men who appeared in a crucial moment in a complicated situation to solve the problem just by their presence. None the less, Keisuke had not one reason for complaint, for the elder has always been there, helping him out of trouble or shielding from a severe parental punishment in his childhood on far more than dozen occasions.

The one on the stairs looked pretty wasted, and Keisuke bet mother would wonder why his face as well as clothes was seedy - and the blond was right.

"Ryousuke, dear, what's happened to you?" the woman gasped and went up to her son in broad steps; his pallor, almost greenish, had her anxious.

The eldest member of the family, even-tempered, serious and unemotional (Ryousuke's composure inherited from him) left the bedroom just now, hoping to resolve the problem, if there was one, or put an end to whatever disorder, because a rather suspicious commotion in the living-room had awakened him, much to his displeasure.

"It's still morning and so eventful already! What's going on here?" his loud voice sufficient to mute all sounds in the huge house, notes of irritation echoed through the space. The wife let him know it was alright, her gentle smile always enough to calm him down. No one ever contradicted the head of the family, and although unbearable at times, everyone had to put up with his opinion, fulfil his orders, listen to his every word with eyes down, be humble, meek and submissive - the custom near impossible. The FD driver complained the most, and envied Ryousuke who was good at shutting up at the right moment whereas his mouth kept babbling until he got his just deserts.

Mother and father's talk slipped in the background, the dissonant music of a silly argument fading for Keisuke as he fixed his eyes on one tall dark-haired male in the room, for a brief moment he thought he'd better get out and avoid this incinerating green burning him alive, but he lingered on and averted his look.

"Keisuke," there followed a millisecond pause that seemed endless; the voice, deep and smooth, velvet-like, faltered, having the blond at attention. "Go ask who's that one who had overtaken you. Be there at seven sharp."

The boy barely understood what he told him, his mind far, outside the earth perhaps. He had heard the directions but his brain failed to process the information, the only thing he registered was that mesmerizing voice in his head.

"Hai," he snorted when it sank into his mind finally, and left the room for the garage, fumbling about in his pocket tor the FD keys.

He looked sleepy, unhealthy, badly needing a few hours of a good slumber, the night 'on guard' resulting in yawning and closing and opening his eyes as he headed for the car's abode.

What the elder has just done for him was invaluable, he's saved him from the awful family thing called interrogation, or thorough examination, a kind of torture any child is acquainted with, and this time, like many times before, Ryousuke took the blame, put it on his own shoulders, saying it was his fault that they had returned so late; he spilled the light on the night's events, focused on the correct order of things, presented the story in an even, strictly Ryousuke-ish manner.

Inwardly thanking god that the younger wasn't around, Ryousuke was choosing the correct tactics as he narrated the tale about the night trip; he sighed in relief when his brother went out, otherwise Keisuke might have spoiled his very-thought-out as well as partly-untrue story, and he didn't want Keisuke to stammer or get under his feet anyway, herewith ruining the excellent plan of his.

"Anything else to add, Ryousuke?" father's question sounded suspicious when the genius driver came to the end of the story.

If only he could get into his son's brain! He would be shocked to see the falsity of his offspring's words. Luckily, the Takahashi was not a mind-reader - a professional doctor yes, but not a telepath.

"Iie," Ryousuke wanted to be through with this sort of ordeal, hasn't he told him enough?

The meeting, the people, the cars, the surroundings, Keisuke's practice, what else did father want to hear? Yet he felt an urge to know more, as though sniff it out, so he raised one eyebrow, and asked,

"Hontou? Sou ka," and drilled the son with his gaze, even more incinerating than Ryousuke's, another leading question ready, interrogation turning into cross-examination where he tried to expose Ryousuke as a liar. "Favor me with an answer then, how come it took you so long to get home if you told me you had found your brother right on arriving? Why did it take you three hours to get back home instead of normal one? What have you been doing all this time?"

The seemingly brilliant story was about to collapse, he had made an error, and now, with no suitable phrase prepared, he had to think quickly and carefully; he giggled awkwardly, and started with an interjection,

"Eeto…"

Keisuke meanwhile felt a good deal better, he was far from the ominous spot and completely unaware what mess his aniki was in. He wasn't that much cheerful, riding along the freeway towards a gas station to fill up the vehicle's almost empty tank, mentally searching for answers hurling upon him. None of the people asked helped to get the name of the Akina's racer, so he found it most useless to torment every single man with one and the same question. Besides, he could always win back, couldn't he? He still hardly believed in what had happened on the pass - this white shame, he won't repeat it, his battle on Saturday will come as proof.

"Same old routine, Keisuke-sama? I could… you know… help you while away an hour or two."

He looked up from his salad at a young man standing near the table, so openly offering his 'help', but there was no need to react at the greeting since the Takahashi was used to phrases like this in cafes and restaurants where many of his fanboys, and fangirls too, dropped in to get an autograph or whatever they wanted from him, and this time seemed no exception. 'Dregs of society will always spy on us. I wonder if dressing-up might help,' the FD owner reluctantly sized up the newcomer, greatly discontented by the interruption. He had come to the Family's to dine alone, then made himself comfortable at the table near the window when the stranger disturbed him unexpectedly. To tell the truth, Keisuke liked to be the centre of attention, adored praise and compliments, especially these coming out of Ryousuke's mouth; what he hated angrily was moments of broken privacy, and he secretly asked himself if there were candid cameras installed in bathrooms in their house.

"No," Keisuke put on an air of indifference, chewing on a lettuce leaf and a sentence to laugh it off. "Just thinking about a brand-new dreamy sports car that beat me on Akina the other night. Gotta find the owner and outbid it, not to let it defeat me next time, like I always do. Do you by chance know him?"

This said, he smirked at the 'new dreamy sports car' sarcastic words which were not in the least close to the truth. The boy's eyes blinked twice in total misunderstanding, he was utterly surprised to hear about Keisuke-sama's defeat and even more blown away by the words about a potential purchase – does he buy all cars that outrun him in this case?

"Relax. Kidding," the blond sipped at his coke before adding. "You seriously think there's a car better than mine?"

His tone sounded non-threatening but he succeeded in driving the point home, and the admirer chose to let him be, his service not needed.

Keisuke ended his meal, leaving a couple of bills on the table after reaching into his back pocket to retrieve them. Hungry. Ryousuke's been drilling it into him not to eat fastfood and replace cheeseburgers with fresh vegetables, and fries with fruit. "Like I'm any cow to chew grass!" the hot-tempered guy concluded, storming out of the café towards the nearest McDonald's to have something more substantial. His brother's healthy diet, or whatever he called the stuff he forced into himself, had Keisuke all fretful, and becoming a vegetarian was not in his plans - wasn't he a male who needed meat? He was, since the rumbling stomach was still reminding of it, a plate of greens not enough to satisfy his appetite.

The rest of the afternoon spent aimlessly driving from vending machines to superstores until the blond-haired man decided it high time he returned home, luckily without the usual entourage in the face of fans - oh, he hated it when they followed him all the way to the house, running after the car - he wasn't that epic, or was he?

Ryousuke was enthusiastically typing something, long fingers moving fast over the keys, eyes focused on the laptop screen as numerous layouts changed one another; he was deep sunk in work when a double knock at the door distracted him.

"'m coming in."

'Must be appalled at what I've prepared for him,' thought he, then turned in his swivel chair to look at the otouto, who sat down on his bed.

A short talk between the two concerning Keisuke's discoveries about the incident on Akina and its zero outcome followed by awkward silence seeming very weird, so unlike usual brotherly conversations they've got accustomed to. Ryousuke saw his younger's uneasiness and started off with that same queer chuckle,

"We're half-unmasked. Father asked me how come it took us three hours to get home today."

A sign of curiosity crawled on his face as he scrutinized the guy with precise attention. The one seemed in stupor as his eyes slowly widened, he actually looked like chameleon turning deep red from his natural pale color, face blushing, throat extremely dry, goosebumps covering his back.

"N- nani?" he exclaimed hardly believing his ears whereas Ryousuke gave a short laugh and moved a little closer to Keisuke so as he thought it an ideal moment for the otouto to experience the displeasure and inconvenience and fear that he had felt in the morning. "Wha- what did you tell him?"

That sounded like a mouse talking to an elephant, Ryousuke being the latter as he was obviously mocking, lovingly, but still mocking at the other Takahashi.

"The truth," he swirled around to face the working laptop - wasn't he a reigning champion at the moment?

Keisuke felt an urgent need of a cigarette or two, better three, this depending on the length of the story he was about to hear and the time required to regain from shock, the present state of his.

"Don't screw with me!" the boy challenged him, clenching bedsheets as he was sitting on Ryousuke's bed.

There was no reply, sound of typing instead.

"Namenna yo!" he had enough rage and strength to hit the unsuspecting brother but would never forgive himself should anything lamentable happen, so he poured his evil on the computer, coming up to his aniki and the hellish machine, and then slamming it with one hard rapid bang. The lid shut with a loud crack before Keisuke continued in a malicious, almost intimidating tone – burst of emotions found little escape,

"Now you gonna tell me everything. Every fucking detail of that talk. All of it!"


	5. The Sin

**_V. The Sin_**

Two pairs of green eyes staring each other down, one burning with rage, the other filled with tender calmness, always the same - emotions versus logic, ten words in a question versus silence in a reply, fires of hell versus coolness of angels, they were two opposite poles of a magnet, heaven and earth, having a joined line of the never-ending horizon, distant yet touching each other, two brothers as entity, and one of them failed to keep on the razor-edge, having crossed the inadmissible boundary and now suffering from the bleeding wounds. The perfect balance, like in drift, had gotten too difficult to control as the forbidden fruit of pleasure teased: seduction, temptation had grown ever-so sweet to resist. The corners of the soft pink lips moved upwards, whereas the one at the desk lowered his eyes in shame,

"Gomen, aniki."

Ryousuke's smile lingered until Keisuke dared a look up again, the former's features kind and forgiving.

"I told him the truth, but he knows not more than absolutely necessary."

The blond closed his eyes, thanking both his brother and God since he felt a weight off his mind, feeling of sheer relief bringing solace and sudden weakness in the knees as he sat onto the edge of the desk, catching his breath and awaiting further information.

"It felt like bad comedy, no good at all… Keisuke," the elder Takahashi confessed, stroking the smooth black surface of the abused laptop. "Trust me, he won't nag you with questions, I've seen to it."

"Aniki," Keisuke breathed out not sure of what to add, eyes watery. "How did you- I mean- What- Was it that-"

"Relax, it's OK, it's no big deal really. And I'm not supposed to discuss such matters with him since it's our personal issue," the FC driver got up and presented Keisuke with another of his rare smiles. "Now go."

The blond rose from his seat, glancing at the damaged computer, inwardly cherishing the hope it was alright, other than that he'd have to pay out of his pocket for the repair. He left the room absorbed in various unimportant thoughts, like these of his misbehavior, his conduct badly needed improvement. At times, the times when Keisuke had no special occupation or before going to bed, he wondered why he was that emotional and had so much difficulty controlling his temper, and thus he put the blame on the parents, envying Ryousuke; or it might be the hint that he had to change something about himself, say, reduce fussiness, increase calmness, but he was 21, wasn't it late to alter the character? Somehow, Keisuke couldn't fall asleep after he went to bed, it was still early and despite lack of slumber he was feeling unusually restless as though not safe enough, and he kept musing on the future Saturday race and counting chances for winning, brooding on bits of conversation with Ryousuke, trying to teleport himself back to the morning when he left home and aniki stayed to save his skin, thinking what would have happened if he had not gone out, what a hell of a discussion he might have had with father; 'what if's' invading his tired mind in an endless flood which gradually, unnoticed by him, slowed down, weakened, until it ceased at last, helping the boy get his needed dream, by that time the clock already flashing 3AM.

The moment the study door locked behind Keisuke was blissful for Ryousuke as he sighed mentally. Once at the table again, he got down to checking the laptop for any sign of severe destruction, and upon finding none, the Takahashi leant back in his favorite chair glad to have at least one positive point in the day. Although he had made up an elaborate story shielding both of them, the elder brother didn't feel as relaxed as he would like, he, rather, felt strangely alarmed, the state somewhat like after-swoon. Oh man, why did he have the finding-the-reason-for-all obsession? It made him angry and he would attempt to get rid of it. Keisuke didn't have anything close to this hateful trait and therefore lived a carefree life with no such analyze-everything function sealed in his brain. How come their parents have created him a robot-like child? He liked his otouto's nature better than his. The concerned guy, however, had other problems to load his head with, so he chose not to carry on with this one for now.

It was the native engine sound that made him startle and lean back from the steering wheel his forehead rested upon. Keisuke huh'ed, pricking up his ears to make sure he wasn't deceived. He wasn't. The sounding of tires, the manner of driving, the exceptional style of handling the car seemed too obvious to not get it. Ryousuke was coming to rescue him.

'If it's a rescue at all,' the depressed racer sighed: his brother, he thought, would now exit the vehicle and come up to him and remember all bad things Keisuke had done for the last couple of days, and swear and call him nuts and ask billions of questions he wouldn't find answers to, and do this and that and many other horrible things. 'Dou shiyou?'

Meanwhile the unmistakable Mazda has stopped before Keisuke's, and Ryousuke stood smoking, reclining against the hood, all his stance showing expectation as he waited for Keisuke to approach, better with explanations handy. That's ridiculous, the blond guessed, how such a common wide-spread habit turned him on – he adored it when aniki smoked, enjoying the sight, so absorbed, mesmerized by how Ryousuke did it. He might as well think it obsession as he watched him take out a stick and put it into his mouth, the cigarette placed a bit to the right side, before he lit it, and gray stream broke through the lips while he breathed it out; Keisuke derived utmost pleasure from mere observing, he liked being near as though wishing to examine all in detail, every second of how the sibling smoked, even a tiny orange fire at the end of the slowly dying cigarette, even ash falling down onto the ground or caught up by the wind, the way he held it between the index and the middle fingers in his left hand, how thoughtful he became after a few drags - all this excited Keisuke, excited to the point of delirium, night-dreaming about it when he imagined himself surrounded by the clouds of this magical smoke. He had picked up the harmful addiction too, mostly because he wanted to act like the elder, but it lost its authentic magic when it was he who touched the white tobacco items, so Ryousuke was the only one who did it in a special incredibly-tempting way. Or was it just him?

The dreamer gazed ahead for yet another two minutes before taking his eyes off the tall figure illuminated by the light of the car, and with a short growl he shifted in the driver's seat, not feeling like moving or leaving the warm comfort of the FD, but he perfect hint dropped by Ryousuke told him to get out, the sooner the better. The elder was obstinate, the younger even more stiff-necked – Keisuke bet the dark-haired man would give up in several minutes; the cigarette coming to the end alongside Ryousuke's patience. The two knew each other well enough to be able to foresee each other's actions. He grew all nervous, noting the other take a small step in the direction of the quiet yellow car, further movements unwilling as though he had just run a 66km marathon. 'Welcome to personal therapy hour,' Keisuke braced up for his brother's lesson. 'I won't let you. I need other things, not your nravou4'.

Upon coming to the solitary car, the FC-driver had nothing to do but get inside in the hope of solving some problems, and obviously, there were quite a few, judging by Keisuke's behavior, and find some common ground as a basis for agreement, if there were things to agree on, of course. He doubted that what he was going to do was right, but what Keisuke had on his mind, however, was far from his even most daring guesses. A hurricane, powerful storm covered him next moment, and he suddenly had to gasp for air as something was choking, and, breathless, he groped for the door handle, in vain, for it was locked a moment prior by a prompt Keisuke. The glass was rolled up as well, denying any access out. Then a momentary glimpse rushed through his mind that it was a high-risk situation with no escape whatsoever. Ryousuke swallowed loudly as what seemed like death-carrying object pressed tightly to his neck and stiffened the terrible grip, like huge tongs squeezing metal, his head was being torn out of the body with force, hot clutch around the pale neck getting deeper, harder, and in the dimness, in the gray fog of half-consciousness, he caught a desperate call, the word so familiar, the voice so dear.

"Aniki… aniki… aniki," it echoed over and over again.

There in the car Ryousuke now felt extremely claustrophobic, sounds hyperbolized, deafening, crushing his ears. What was going on, what had he done wrong to deserve such a punishment, and this 'aniki'… it was killing. No-no-no… Where was Keisuke? He'd rather have fainted for what happened to him afterwards was too unreal to believe. The young man in the driver's seat tossed himself in the opposite direction over the gear shift, and onto the one in the passenger seat. Nothing but madness, last stage of insanity, restriction forgotten; like a bull catching a sight of a bright red rag moving from side to side by the toreador, the guy got out of control. Not even a dozen of seat-belts could fasten him in place as he leaped at his brother who had scarcely gotten into the car. Was it Keisuke or the Devil incarnate or a vampire clinging to a victim to suck the delicious blood, ever-so sweet liquid, taste each tiny drop of it as it got onto his tongue, savoring, enjoying, loving… until the victim, unable to fight back anymore, fell into submission, becoming his property.

Sure and swift hands slid everywhere as he claimed the body of the other his irrefutable possession, he needed this intimacy, moments of desire he's been keeping within for so long, the want to rid of the burden found its chance at last. Months of one-sided longing, unrequited love growing into aching torture; deliberate distancing himself from the object of passion ending in one-night stands with no-matter-who, all kinds of males, all sorts of guys - only to subside the longing, find someone who'd at least remotely look like his aniki. Failure by failure, these finds appeared mere rent boys with nice bodies but not the slightest hint at Ryousuke. Hiding his nature, concealing these reputation-tarnishing affairs, Keisuke has got used to living a double-faced life, and some day, he assumed, he might burst. A huge bomb of unuttered words and locked feelings would explode; come what may, but he would be relieved at last. Perversion, corruption, sin, he'd been thinking about these things for what seemed the biggest part of his free time, finding some peace in driving. Eating, reading, talking with friends, clubbing and even sleeping, all this led to nothing but thoughts about his brother. The elder, in his opinion, was either a fool who didn't notice his strange conduct, or on the opposite, a wise man who chose 'not to trouble trouble till trouble troubled him'. He hated and loved Ryousuke at the same time, and has gotten all nuts recently, on the verge of explosion, but he knew that if revealed, the secret would bring dishonor on the family. 'Damned Takahashis,' he often regretted he had been born so spoiled into such a decent family, where no one seemed to have the right for mistake.

Hungry mouth almost biting, gnawing at the thin skin, teeth almost tearing bits of flesh once Keisuke got access to the divine creature of his haunting dreams, once the ghost of his brother became real, and the shadow acquired its true form, a seducing, tempting shape, an ideal silhouette of God. He has been waiting for this moment for what seemed like eternity. Nothing could discourage him from doing it, for the chance would slip away if missed right now, there would be no tomorrow if he didn't do it. Although his body was in a less favorable position due to the low-ceilinged FD, the blond managed to still the passenger, right hand around Ryousuke's neck, nails digging into its softness; he would never forgive himself for hurting the beloved, yet now Keisuke was out of his mind, turning all wilder, scarier, but knowing the explanation, the reason for such unpardonable actions – afraid to lose him, wanting to make him stay, force was the single way not to let him go, or else Ryousuke would break free and despise him for the rest of his life (well, this he would do in any case), so Keisuke thought it best to keep him captive, grip tightening, causing the raven-haired man to start to coughing. There had been no plan arranged beforehand, nor was the younger realizing what the hell he was doing at the moment - lust-blinded, people rarely understand anything under such circumstances: 'On the bed of love never sleeps sanity or good sense', thus Ryousuke remarked once. But hopefully, this time there would be no bad outcome: one trip to morgue and one to jail will be too much for the Takahashi-parents. Keisuke'd better topped before it was too late.

He prepared for another fierce assault, heavy touch on a not-so-alive body, that proprietary instinct revealing one more side of Keisuke, so brutal, savage, an insatiable beast has broken loose, the only thing proving that it was a human being was the never-ending 'aniki' whispered time and again.

There followed kisses, many of them, making Ryousuke's lips red and swollen, a few more and his sensitive skin might bleed, sharp teeth on his neck and lower, to the collarbone, and then down until the upper button was unfastened, and the hunt for flesh went on as he moved farther to the second and the third round clasp, only satisfied when fully undid the shirt. One hand was not enough to enjoy the feeling of the tense frame, his position uncomfortable too, this forcing the guy to move onto Ryousuke's lap, as the FD-driver straddled his brother, releasing his neck, all done fast as he pressed his chest against the other's, getting as much contact as the position offered. He breathed out and closed his eyes in delight, placing his palms on the passenger's shoulders, while wondering if he dreamed it up or it was another collection of silly fancies that would disperse by the morning. Now melting in a half-embrace, all inconvenience insignificant, this closeness meaning a lot more than any other material substitution. Could it be because he lacked brotherly love? All his life he has been craving for Ryousuke's attention, so this simple wish gradually transformed into yearning for his whole brother: physical attraction, sexual need, permanent thoughts of a taboo yet alluring incest chasing the guy. Anytime, everyplace, the monster inside strived after illegal intimacy. It was high time to get it.

"Aniki…" he never meant to stop whereas the elder struggled for oxygen, needing to fill the lungs with the precious air, blackness thickening. "Aniki…"

Hot wet tongue glided along the left side of the just-freed neck, up and down, then caressed the small ear-lobe, nose catching a fresh hardly-discernible scent of forest shampoo lingering in aniki's hair, every single spot, each centimeter of the man underneath him seemed incredible, beautiful. He was his, his own, no one else's, his aniki!

"Aniki…" another reiteration as all mixed and messed and tangled in the hazed mind of the molester;

He has gone too far but it was all about now or never. And after a sensual moan,

"I want you."


	6. Dotting all i’s – Crossing all t’s

_**VI. Dotting all i's – Crossing all t's**_

A sudden lightning struck and divided the world into two – there was he, the unmoving ballast sitting like a manikin in the car, and the other person above, doing various things to him. That body felt heavy, pressing against the lap and groin, causing pain, and all he wanted was take whoever it was off; the second bent forward to get even closer, but the victim failed to figure out what exactly the other was doing, for he must have been unconscious for a while, senses not hurrying to work correctly. What was this person doing to him, why was he seated in such a weird position, who was he, after all? It was dim and stuffy, and the other one seemed to have gone beyond the bounds of decency. For god's sake, what was going on? It took Ryousuke as much as an instant to process all the things.

"D- doushita?" a stifled question so hushed among the constantly-enounced 'aniki'.

Uncomfortable. More so when a dull pain in his neck let itself known, and then he caught a peculiar taste with a salty metal tinge in his mouth, which followed by the realization of stinging or pinching in his chest. What was it? Wandering probing fingers, sighs and warmth and moist against his parted lips, before and after that something still hotter found its bold way in-between, the other face tilted to the side as he moaned into a passionate kiss, and, upon inhaling the scent of the man, he thought it familiar too. The receptors hastily carried information to the brain, but unlike always it was somewhat slower at handling it. He attempted to define the touch and the exploring mouth, the taste of cigarettes it had - again, the delicious odor he was acquainted with, what could it be?.. What could it-

Masaka!

Ryousuke's eyes shot open, in awe, body convulsing, unexpectedly he broke off the act performed over him, hence freeing his mouth,

"Keisuke! Wake up!" he cried in an unnaturally-frightened tone, hardly trusting his eyes, certain that his brother must be possessed.

"Aniki, I want you… want you so damn much…" the younger would not awaken as he continued the love-ritual, daring skilled fingers massaging Ryousuke's skin underneath his shirt, lips placing soft pecks all over the bruised chest as though healing random wounds left on it moments earlier, an unusual tenderness arising in the before-tameless body, a strange change so unbelievable, should anyone witness their immodest session.

"I love you, I need you, aniki," the utterance filled with the same pacifying tenderness as his movements, Keisuke's words matching his actions' rhythm.

Ryousuke was still unable to pull himself together but already knowing the younger had run riot, and he felt uneasy with the brother that close to him, very much indeed, and he feared lest Keisuke should commit an act of rape (which, apparently, he was about to set in motion), the perspective of which seemed far from appeasing. So extraordinary it felt, finding himself under the otouto's leadership, the situation not credible.

"Sore sukijanai, Keisuke," a faltering voice growing surer at last.

Although displaying strictness, Ryousuke said it without rude words, not wishing to hurt his dear one even in this critical scenario. This said, he caught Keisuke's wrists by gripping them, movement not predicted by the aggressor above. He gasped at the sarp pain, willing to avoid the clasp, however, brother's hand strong enough to hold him in place and make him wince. The mist of lust dispersed, and fortunately for the elder, it didn't take Keisuke ages to recover.

"Aniki," without thinking twice or considering the consequences, he leaned forward to present his brother with another light kiss, while Ryousuke's seizure got tighter.

By that time, he had fully come to his senses, Keisuke being the only one who kept soaring in the clouds. Ryousuke turned away, hands not letting the blond touch his lips, before he glared back at him with gaze intense, implying something unattainable for the younger. In it, besides determination, was… not hatred nor evil. Was it- Was it sorrow?

'Shinjirarenai…' he got up and shifted his weight off the man, hands freed once he was in the driver's seat.

How did it happen? How did he manage to sit on Ryousuke and in such a low-roofed car? Truly, desire worked outrageous things on him! The guy was in a stupor unable to reason out his sudden ardor, fervor subsiding together with his arousal, labored breathing calming down, and he hung head, feeling quite himself, the usual Keisuke back there again.

What was he thinking? That late night incident must have made him look no better than a slut in his brother's eyes. Still, he did not want to feel remorse. What's done is done, the FD was no time machine to transport Keisuke into the past to alter things, the FD in fact has seen a good many incidents of sexual character, but it was the first time the event involved his sibling.

Ryousuke was sorting things out when his brother finally got off him, different rational-irrational ideas mixing in his head as he sat silently, staring into emptiness, nothing other than a clear windshield in front of him. He was in no search for reasons for Keisuke's sudden harassment, he was brooding upon his own future actions, there was no way he would fight back or shout, he would never raise his hand against the otouto, his excellent upbringing excluding such vile deeds. He loved the younger, even though in his own way, a bit weird maybe, not what brotherly love is meant to be, yet not boundary-breaking. Sometimes he blamed himself for being weak when it came to displaying true emotions preferring to keep them shut in a dark closet of his heart. While others found his traits of character exceptional in their flawlessness, he despised his inborn ability to stay cool-blooded and dodge issues like he dodged obstacles on the road. Why wasn't there anything close to, say, feint drift when it came to expressing emotions? Why couldn't he roar it out for once? Likewise, he despised the logical mindset of his: making up itineraries, plans, lists - he barely imagined his everyday life without precise schedules and timetables. Even now, at such a crucial moment, his brain was busy anatomizing, and would probably carry on with this but for an odd itch in this chest, which had him distracted. After taking a look down, close to disgust came over him. All the way down his naked torso was covered with what looked like minor injuries, small scratches, bruises and bites, some of which were bleeding, some causing a nasty tickling and desire to rub them. Even though solely in narrow circles, Takahashi Ryousuke was famous for his obsession with cleanliness, but this time he ignored insignificant scars instead of panicking - just hastily wiped his chest with a tissue, taken out of the pocket. Red surfaces not so serious, and he buttoned up his shirt, hoping that crimson marks would not soak the fabric. Ryousuke didn't know his brother had such sharp teeth and nails.

Keisuke's mind contained that queer vacuum when one is unable to focus on anything. Not a single smart idea. First, he needed to open his mouth, then, he guessed, words would be there, yet he didn't want to tell a nonsense, for things like this have already happened to him in most inopportune minutes.

"Eeto…"

"Leave it to yourself. We're not a couple to have an affair. And you know it," the answer sounded very clear as if rehearsed for a million times.

Fair enough. There was nothing else to ask or argue about, so Keisuke thought aniki would get out of the wicked vehicle and say goodbye both to Mt. Akina and to him. Surprisingly enough, he was not in a hurry to escape, sitting still, arms resting on the slender thighs. The blond admired the view with his side sight: Ryousuke's face had a bluish tinge, illuminated by the pale moonlight, looking mystic, enigmatic, as memories about old legends with beautiful vampires captured him, these stories, fascinating as they were, giving him a chill. What was so special about aniki? His eyes, always beckoning, Keisuke would never reveal their mystery, their sadness… there it was again, the suddenly-popped up word,

"Are you sad, aniki?" whisper ever-so soft for fear of breaking the sereneness reigning between them.

A slow turn of Ryousuke's head, yet no verbal response followed - a simple movement meaning so much, like all simple things it could imply anything and everything at the same time. The dark-haired man regarded it needless to reply, one short action telling more than lengthy explanations. Unblinkingly, he stared at the one in the driver's seat, seeming relaxed and almost becalmed, pulse back to normal, five senses fixed. Ryousuke didn't mark the time to count the number of minutes passed before, little by little, one of them began to approach the other, whether it was him or his brother he couldn't tell, but it went on until the familiar bodily scent filled his nostrils again, the younger's mouth dangerously close to his moistened lips; warm, slightly uneven breathing caught against his skin, distance so small he felt Keisuke's eyelashes flutter, until suddenly,

"You're losing credibility in my eyes. We are not in a sexual relationship, are we?" thus another Keisuke's attempt to get the so-longed-for intimacy was cut off again, so he had to quit further efforts and retreat, before flashing a glance at the clock,

"Kusou," he said in a terrified whisper upon seeing how late (or early) it was. "'rents gonna kill us!"

"Ochitsuite, Keisuke, we're adults, after all," Ryousuke's deep smooth voice entranced with its peaceful intonation, hypnotizing, trustful. "Better tell me why you lost the battle."

"Not until you tell me how you found me here," the blond insisted, creating a rather tough atmosphere, getting on Ryousuke's nerves, especially here, in the FD's restricted confines. "It was Kenta's call, wasn't it?"

Keisuke patiently waited for a conformation whereas his brother was deciding upon whether he should go into details and relate the succession of events. He kept silent for a while, adjusting to the pinching under the shirt, struggling not to yield to fatigue, eyelids about to close any second,

"Sou da, Nakamura said after the race you were going somewhere to cool it."

"Uh-huh, the only place to cool it is morgue," Keisuke sniffed.

"We were struck by the call. We worry about you, you know? So I hurried out to search for you, and, suspecting you were in a kind of mental mess, I bet you'd seek oblivion, and was considering possible places where you could find it. But you quite surprised me when I found you here, and not in a bar," Ryousuke heard a small smirk from the right. "Or maybe it's not that surprising, knowing how you suffered the last morning. You didn't want another one started with a hangover, so I took it that you were in no mood for partying all night, I figured out why you've chosen some time to rethink matters. That's how a bit of deduction led me to Akina passes directly. I can even dare a guess you've been outrun not far from this spot, am I wrong?"

"Your logic, aniki- " Ryousuke didn't let him finish

"It's just in your nature. Highly unlikely you'd drive more than a hundred meters when in stress; you need peace and another two-three hours for plain doing nothing. Keisuke?" he waited for any reaction, while the blond digested it; nervousness still lingered on as they were still locked in the sin-car, while the thought of what had just happened kept bugging Keisuke's restless mind.

"Need some fresh air," the younger said, venturing to change the subject, before his brother changed it again

"You need a ride home," saying this, he opened the door and left the FD for his own vehicle.

On the one hand, Keisuke was happy that aniki spared him a never-ceasing moral admonition was over, on the other, he felt as downcast as never before, cursing himself for tons of errors committed by him within the past one-hundred-and-eighty-gone-to-hell minutes. He saw him off with his eyes, his stride bearing no trace of exhaustion. The guy admired his brother's confident actions - aniki always looked confident. And he, Keisuke, thought he looked no better than a fool, so awfully pathetic. He's gotten into trouble. 'Baka, baka. Baka Kenta!'

Nevertheless, the hot-tempered driver hoped he would avenge his defeat on the hachi-roku (which was obviously a harder nut to crack than he had previously assumed) after planning the strategy with Ryousuke, all how's taken into account.

Unlike the otouto's yellow monster, Ryousuke's white Mazda now felt a lot more comfortable and far less perverted car to be in, not so subject to promiscuity, so to say. Somehow the elder found himself imagining how famous the FD was beyond the racers' circles, how often it may have become a shelter for two men, Keisuke included. What a gorgeous place for making-out, with the only exception that it was a bit too tight. All the way home he was musing on dirty things, those he's always thought should be stuffed deeper. He flicked a glance in the rearview and side mirrors every once in a while, as if checking if the younger was following or stopped all of a sudden. In a condition like this anything could happen, both of the Takahashis still not completely themselves. Their big name, however, might lead to a good deal of negative effects as that night's incident was a risky one, and yet, Ryousuke hoped in Akina's darkened corners there had been no spies with binoculars. Other than that, they might get into a scrape.

Their absence would undoubtedly cause parents' suspicion, and the elder set to inventing reasonable answers for possible questions, which tou-san is sure to ask, at the same time wondering what Keisuke was brooding about. All the while the unpleasant feeling over his front would barely subside, having him puzzled - he had underestimated his brother's bites. He would have to apply some medicine once home, otherwise, neglect may result in infection. Two bright lights reflecting in the rearview reminded him about the immoral night, three hours of staying awake instead of regular sleep would noticeably influence his state tomorrow. He cared for his health, tried to keep on a diet to be fit; smoking undermining the regime, though. He had tried to give it up, which only led to resuming the addiction; but he will have to work on it, none the less. Oh, one more plus, he wasn't that attracted by the idea of living fast in clubs and bars, and did not drink so hard as a certain somebody - and he glanced in the mirror. Here another minus popped up, which Ryousuke, just like Keisuke, hated to think of, but which never stopped nagging him. This very minus, he regarded it serious, so serious that one day he might become dependent on it. Occasionally, the elder preferred following his nose, not wishing to analyze things which got contrary to reason, yet how confusing were the issues that came to the surface, they triggered further difficulties, so that his relatively-smooth life with minimum worries turned real bad, as day after day nasty surprises darted out on his way. But he will not let personal problems affect his social status, and there will be no such thing as defeat, no such humiliation like his otouto's loss, neither mental nor physical.

Takahashi Ryousuke was unsurpassable, with this conclusion his grip on the steering wheel tightened, and he sped up, determined and unbreakable as ever.


	7. Painful Anticipation

**A/n:** before you read the chapter, please read my foreword

Hello, everyone. I'm so glad to post this chapter. Hope you'll like it. But do not forget to review^^

Also, want to tell you something about my writing style so that you know what kind of person I am and how I write.

_The problem with long-term fanfic for emotional writers is usually the same. We don't have enough patience for many-chaptered projects, we are unable to write them, unable to keep going as we're inconstant, unstable in behavior and our thoughts are fussy, so we fail to go at the same pace throughout the years, we cannot write on one and the same subject for years on end._

_Emotional ppl abandon their projects once they lose interest in the subject or fandom. We flash up like a sparkle and carry on writing like men possessed only to completely give up one day. For that matter, such writers rarely (and shouldn't) write many-chaptered fics, opting for oneshots instead. And that's exactly my case. I used to be obsessed with writing Behind the Scenes but then it dawned on me that I didn't have time for it and then I supposed I wouldn't get back to this story._

_Still, I felt the need for continuation for I rly liked it and put too much of myself into it. Now I'm putting my heart and soul into it, despite great quantity of work I don't stop and ch. 21 is already finished. I'm pretty happy about how it's going, but be warned, the style and manner of writing differs from what it used to be. 2 years have passed and of course I couldn't do the same, so yeah, from chapter 12 you'll apparently notice some changes, there will be more Japanese phrases as well. In many ways, I remind the character of Keisuke. Hot-headed, impulsive, wanting all and now, and, quoting the manga, 'One dark moment is enough to spoil his mood till the end of the day'. Oh, it is so like me!_

And another addition.

_Yesterday was one of the best days of this year._

_With a splitting headache and a slight fever I had to work at the computer and while downloading a file, I decided to check on Koyasu Takehito's vids on Utube. How amazed was I after coming across a marvelous vid with Miki, Seki and Koyasu where they promoted IniD 3rd Stage (in 2001). They gave me a huge inspiration source. They behaved exactly like in my story Behind the Scenes. Ryousuke and Keisuke shared a kiss and in the clip, Koyasu and Seki kiss too! I was like, OMG, look-at-that-what-are-they-doing-are-they-kissing?!? Fancy that! It's like your fanfic characters becom alive, two men, Ryousuke and Keisuke, touching, embracing, kissing in RL. Thankfully, no one was around to hear my squeals)) My head still hurts but, heck, does it matter after what I've seen?_

As usual, phrases in "..." mean direct speech, phrases in '...' mean inner thoughts.

* * *

_**VII. Painful Anticipation**_

With euphoria and expectation came the fateful Saturday. The before-arranged race on Mt. Akina involved all those amateurs who have just started their career together with those who were confirmed as professionals, RedSuns in particular. The unbeatable rotary engine kyoudai were the center of attention that night, crowds gathering in the galleries to at least take a short look at the non-residents. Akagi's racers arrival normally presupposed delight and shrilling cryes wherever they appeared. Gossip spread quickly, but even so, very few got to know about Keisuke's first defeat so fart, he himself hardly believed in his loss, a never-leaving feeling of pressure and anxiety wouldn't let the driver remain as unnerved and composed as the second brother seemed.

"Aniki, it's like a noose", his complaint went unnoticed after he came into his brother's study where the elder sat still at the laptop, his usual typing routine distracting him from the conversation. "It galls me that some creepy ate-up hachi-roku managed to outrun me!"

The other Takahashi swirled in the chair to face the blond, his eyes were closed, arms crossed on the chest, Keisuke waited patiently for another 'let-me-tell-you-something' of his aniki.

"Ate-up? My FC is outdated as well, your FD's destiny is the same. In a couple of years…" he opened his eyes and went on in a very even tone. "Won't it be old, too? Car is not that important, the driver is. Isn't it what I've been teaching you since you became fond of driving?"

The chair turned around again, while a perplexed FD-lover searched for a smart phrase to add. He found none, though.

"I'm not gonna let anyone play silly games with me this time. I tell you it was a mistake, I'm gonna win tonight," Ryousuke's room perused into silence soon after this sentence since the younger left the place totally annoyed but assured.

'He has a sense of impending doom, he sees it too brightly not to notice', the more reasonable of the two concluded shutting the computer lid. He had some business before the meeting. 'Business' being a secret word implying a much more private occupation.

Five minutes later, just before the customary 8 o'clock juice, one of the Takahashis slowly got into the bathroom, closing a white wooden door behind him, cool water switched on, he pretended to be taking shower while in reality this was far from true, what he wanted to see the least of all possible things was the reflection in the mirror at the moment. The image of him, a terrible sight of a bruised chest with livid marks and crimson lines, made him want to rub and scratch and massage the skin over and over again, there were so many bites that his torso now looked all grey and blue, incidental red cuts added to the horrible picture, he didn't suspect Keisuke's 'loving' attacks would look like an awful rainbow. Luckily, his neck was alright, Ryousuke sighed in relative relief. Thank god kaa-san and tou-san missed his occasional swearing whenever clothes came in contact with his hurting front. Anyway, he has taken care lest nothing touched his vulnerable flesh, wearing loose shirts and applying fresh medicine among such preventive measures.

'Che', Ryousuke cursed unable to keep his mouth shut from a cuss word as he removed the court plaster to examine the scars. Things were getting better of course, yet the process of recovering took too much time, in his op. after throwing all used bits and sticking new ones, the Takahashi pulled on his shirt and left the site.

"Living hell", a whisper escaped his lips once he crossed the threshold.

"A way of transmission when an infectional agent is transferred to another organism with sexual cells as its hereditary material is inserted in the host's chromosomes", read Keisuke, immediately slamming the hateful book and dropping it to the bed where he had taken it from a moment ago.

"Living death", he remarked, this way expressing his clear point of view on what he has just enounced, inwardly wondering what this tripe was about. "Must be a heavy load to bear".

He knew well how clever the elder was, how wise for his age, what appeared inexplicable was how he managed to be good at practically every field, all subjects seeming easy, understandable, especially the one which the book was devoted to. Keisuke never liked scientific subjects, not enough brains for this stuff, as he himself put it. Besides, he thought he would never be able to stay faithful to one and the same thing throughout his whole life, while Ryousuke was different, Anatomy being his cup of tea. But for Keisuke the elder brother would spend all time studying, reading, cutting frogs, but fortunately, this wasn't happening so far – racing saving Ryousuke from absolute obsession with medicine.

'There's hope for you yet', the young man noted under his breath, sitting down on the bed before lying down and burying his head in his brother's pillow. Its scent was sufficient to turn him on, sheer pleasure he has been deprived of recently. God… what was he doing?

"My pillow is no honey-pot", a soft deep voice mentioned with a small chuckle.

"Who said it's not?" Keisuke laughed off, a tad surprised at aniki's tendency to pace quietly, in addition, he didn't expect Ryousuke would return so quickly.

"What are you ding here? A secret crush on my room or…" he approached the bed and took the book in his hands, then raised one eyebrow. "On Biology?"

"You didn't know I'm gonna be a doctor just like you, aniki?" a funny retaliation provoked Ryousuke's giggle, he was glad to see his brother in high spirits.

The former all trembled, overwhelmed with fear and need, trying his best to not reveal it, sudden closeness, intimacy even, he could surely try another attack. Nonsense, he would not let his simple want ruin his love, not this time. The eye contact he was getting now, he wished the sparkle in aniki's eyes was that special sparkle, but it could not possibly be true, there was no way his beloved one was like him. Aniki was right and perfect with no hint at perversion, no such thing as desire of sinful brotherly love. Keisuke was deceiving himself and how damn sorry it looked! Still, no one dared to break the contact, two pairs of beautiful eyes – loving, hating, needing, despising… everything and anything. The younger swallowed,

"I shall win! Whomp the Speedstars!"

'And you'll see my love for you, and accept me', he added to himself. Certainly, he wouldn't say it aloud, actions more important to Ryousuke than prattle. Keisuke had to prove his love by winning both tonight and his brother's attention. And he would definitely outrun his rival!

Later on that night the RedSuns gathered at their usual spot before driving to Akina, and each member of the team happened to get sight of Keisuke's obvious nervousness, that he looked pale about the gills, to what the racer found nothing to reply, why should he lie if it was true that he felt sick and nauseous, while his brother only gave him cursory glances time and again, afraid the otouto might say what he shouldn't say.

In the meantime the others prepared for the nightly event, everyone more or less calm and quiet, however, there was an individual different from the rest, the only person with an unchangeable get-up-and-go about him. No matter how hard he tried to brighten up the team number two driver's mood, it brought no result, energetic efforts falling flat. The younger Takahashi knew that many street racers had some romantic feelings towards his persona but could not reciprocate their affection, much to the men's displeasure. If only they were aware who his heart belonged to! Although the FD-owner and his sibling have befriended a lot of potentially talented drivers and even took several of them under their wide comfy wings, it didn't mean the latter could hope for more than a converse, a practice session or an occasional dinner in the company of everyone. No tête-à-tête talks, let alone unintentional contact, which those poor things so longed for, their vain expectations remaining dreams. And while one of the RedSuns went in circles around his dear Keisuke-san, the latter chose to do the same but in relation to the other Takahashi, and this sort of love triangle seemed to leave satisfied none of the guys.

The ghost of a smile appeared on one of Keisuke's admirers' upset face as he watched his idol sit in the car before starting the engine and joining the line of the group's vehicles, his own car following rearmost.

"I wish he would answer my plea", the driver sighed, catching up with the others.

Somehow, he felt a little scared, knowing that his godlike guardian was to participate in the race tonight.

As for Keisuke, he felt truly bold and brave, his ardor and zeal rising second by second, the closer they got to Akina the more courageous he became, virtually looking like an evildoer ready to jump at an unsuspecting prey, as even his yellow pride radiated partially wicked aura, undoubtedly noticed by the raven-haired leader. Riding the first in the car-line, he vividly sensed any mood's alteration especially that of his brother, he caught how cocky the younger behaved, how it affected the driving manner, a bit dodgy, impatient as it appeared. He grinned at the observation upon looking in the rearview mirror. In less than an hour, the RedSuns would get all or nothing, and he'd better hope for the first variant.

Curiosity could not but overwhelm them both, and while everyone else was concerned about what had happened during the last days, the kyoudai were still greatly intrigued by a mysterious downhill victor. Was he a local, an Akina Speedstar or a mere loner, what kind of driver was he, a young man or a middle-aged person, what did he look like, an ordinary guy or a prig, which proved highly unlikely due to Keisuke's description of the owner's car, a simple Trueno could hardly belong to a rich one. 'As if I care', Ryousuke meditated, listening to a more than slightly rancorous roaring of the RX behind. Akagi RedSuns will depose each and every king or queen and proclaim themselves the only unbeatable team in the whole Japan.

First noisy crowd signified they were nearing the location and the elder slowed down, this showing the rest to follow suit, while never-ceasing 'wow's' and 'oh-my-god-it's-them' were heard from here and there, galleries turning quite packed that night.

As mechanics tuned Keisuke's Efini for the battle, its owner stood on guard beside his treasure and close to his brother who chain-smoked, rubbing his chest every once in a while, unnoticeably for the rest, and this wasn't to the younger's liking as he winced, recalling the event's colorful consequences on aniki's body.

'Scratches must still hurt', he peeked at the other one once again, before averting his eyes and protruding a cigarette pack from his pocket, unconsciously rubbing his own chest as if suffering from the same raws. He then attentively watched the rivals, these soon-to-be beaten Speedstars with their obvious lack of skill… and money.

'Pups', he sniffed sizing the up as well as their means of transportation.

Although the Takahashi would never openly say such a rude thing right to his opponent's face, he was well-aware of the outcome, he could be smug, impudent, but their loss was an unquestionable fact, and not a matter of opinion. Still, he was confident the Speedstars were newbies and not his true enemy because he awaited a different man, anticipation resulting in a nervous tick under his right eye before a remark flew off his lips,

"Hachi-roku isn't there", immediately the phrase was commented on, as Ryousuke must have been musing on the same subject too,

"Dou yuu koto da?"

Even in the clamor and murmur of the excited public the 23-year-old guy would discern the vehicle his brother had described, the mysterious sixth sense let him know that amidst various cars and countless racers the hero was missing, however, that very sense didn't help him to pinpoint the time of his arrival or his appearance at least. The looks of the guy made Ryousuke particularly pry as he noted an uncontrollable twitch in his stomach whenever he thought about it, and stick after stick of harmful nicotine brought little relief, long drags useless while he waited in agitation for the trump card of Akina racers.

The clock hand implacably moved towards a cherished figure – 10 PM. Impressing the galleries with driving techniques was a tradition, the brothers' parallel drift went off smooth as they kept an ideal distance as well as equal speed while performing such a crafty manoeuvre, dozens of amazed eyes gazing at the two prominent Mazdas. Somebody – those regarding themselves potential competitors – grimaced and pshawed, seeing none other than facade in the Takahashis conduct, but most of the audience felt delighted by the opportunity to witness unforgettable moments of a first-class show, adrenaline pumping in blood, heads spinning, bodies strained, eyes wide open when the cars slid squealing towards the guardrail. One single slip and… Bang! They could crash into the metal railing. Despite fears, they skidded along mere centimeters away from it. The two were good at scaring the heck out of crowds, thus earning 'gorgeous!', 'awesome!', 'incredible!' from spectators. Their professionalism would never allow them to crash, especially during showmanship. In official battles they drove in a different way, of course.

Things got tangled minute after minute as the countdown man took his position between the two cars, both drivers sweating, even though the reasons for it proved not the same. Keisuke was sweating because he hasn't stopped thinking about the hachi-roku, not for a moment, furrowing his eyebrows, seeming so serious, expression stony as he mentally cursed himself for being that dependant on some freaking Trueno. Meanwhile the other man, a Speedstar guy who the Takahashi didn't even ask his name (so minor he appeared in his eyes) was sweating in utter fright, competing with a legend was surely an honor to him, yet being outrun by said legend in the first corner meant shame and remorse for the rest of his life. Besides that, what could sound worse than disgracing the team, earning it the reputation of a laughingstock. Furthermore, compared to his car, the rich boy's on the left seemed…

'Another creepy Nissan 180SX against my FD3S', the blond exhaled as though continuing his opponent's train of thoughts.

He kept his hands on the steering wheel, tapping fingers against its slightly wet surface as sweat drops had soaked in. The driver could look assured and confident but restlessness revealed through ragged movements, which amused Ryousuke, who found himself not less intrigued by the so-far-missing black-and-white vehicle, just like his sibling who sat impatiently as if needles were stuck in the seat beneath him. In contrast to the other, the elder stayed relatively serene, occasionally glimpsing in the direction of the men with walkie-talkies lest he slipped any significant change. He hoped the awaited star would display to get its shine nonetheless. Two minutes to ten… Something inside the genius racer kept on twirling, warning him about possible alterations, the mark he hurried to get rid of with the help of next cigarette before he looked at the blond who currently reminded him of a little puppy, whining because it didn't get enough attention. The younger's head was propped against the palm of his hand, eyes sorrowful.

"Don't pout your lips, dear", Ryousuke said in jest at the sight ironically, feeling somewhat sorry for both of them. "Guess, this Panda has turned yellow. Shame on him!"


	8. Next Failure

A/n: I'm currently editing the previous chapters of BtS, so they're gonna be replaced one of these days.

So far, enjoy chapter eight^^

_**VIII. Next Failure**_

The genius brain gave birth to this idea just when his eyebrow raised upwards in a partial disgust, shouts from afar made him wince as they mixed with cries from the right side and added to the noise in front of him, adding to his migraine. It's been a while since he started feeling a rather intense pulsing in his temples, and now never-ceasing outcries of loud-mouthed guys were rasping his ears. Something was about to happen, no doubt about it, but the shrieking galleries didn't let him get what was going on, so he pricked up his ears, deepening into what the guys with radio sets were discussing, and luckily for him, the situation soon cleared up as he heard that the Speedstars 'trump card' decided to appear at the last moment. High time!

Ryousuke's eyes darted to where his brother was glowing and shining and who perked up after hearing a freshly arrived piece of information. Keisuke smiled to his elder, relieved at last, feeling twice as bold.

'I'll get even with you, hachi-roku. I'll show you!' the guy thought. 'Both for beating me and making me wait. You'll see who's the boss here. Aniki will be proud of me. Such a pushover.'

The only thing he needed now was see this black-and-white piece of trash and its owner, and then he would set his plan in motion, and after this...

He didn't have time to continue since the expected vehicle arrived and the driver was about to exit the car. Keisuke, jittering, started sweating again, while Ryousuke stepped forward to stand closer to the otouto and have a better chance to study the newcomer; and not that he relished much - he was simply pry to take a look at the lucky one who had managed to outrun his brother, that "monster car", as Keisuke put it. Simply out of curiosity... or not so simply since there were no simple things for Ryousuke, as he tended to complicate everything.

Spectators, racers, Speedstars and of course RedSuns too, all shivering with excitement, awaiting the muffling of a small engine, and numerous pairs of impatient eyes stared unblinkingly lest they should miss the instant the guest opened the door. Who was there? Who was inside the Trueno? Who sat behind the wheel of the so-expected car? People barely moved, frozen in anticipation, eager to see the Takahashi's opponent.

'So you've come,' the leader of the RedSuns noted, drawing his breath as the door opened and a sneakered foot landed on a cool dark asphalt. 'Here you are. Let's have a look at you, Akina no yuurei.'

Never in his life has Takahashi Keisuke felt this crappy and his brother so lousily. A whirlwind of horrid recollections transforming into the feeling of self-abasement and resentment, as one sibling tried to find peace and rest, and the other refused to believe in what had happened that night. Ryousuke shook his head, giving a random nervous giggle while a severe headache reminded of itself by the pounding temples. He'd better be more attentive to his health and leave computer work for a time being, but if he kept acting as suspiciously as he has been recently, his father would definitely notice an odd change, and fuss him with unwanted questions, lots of them, and such a scenario didn't please Ryousuke at all, so he had to think of a good tactics to stay away from tou-san, who had a habit of behaving in a shamus-like fashion, sneaking here and there until discovering somebody's secret in the end. Tou-san is too ready to suspect everyone in their family.

But this racking headache... Ryousuke doubted he would be good at hiding his bad state. Damned stresses - the main reason for his migraines! While considering preventive measures, he closed the laptop and leant back in the chair, and once shutting his eyes, he tried to subside a huge bell ringing within his head, which bothered the man so that he was on the verge of whining. 'If it goes on I'll go mad,' he thought, seeking a treatment. Relying on a pill not always healthy, trusting a cigarette not wise either, and thus he favored for some natural medicine. He grabbed a thick textbook from the shelf and went to the kitchen where fridge was a container for a secret remedy for his splitting ache.

When downstairs, he flopped down into the chair, one hand busy with the bookmarked page, the other reaching for the handle, opening the door and retrieving a bowl of kiwi fruit. Although worn out and frazzled, he needed a useful occupation, one distracting him from the memories of the near past revolving on his mind, so he judged Biology would be helpful. All Ryousuke had to do was absorb in reading while the sweet green fruit would be a pleasant addition to the process. As a heap of peelings grew, the number of studied lessons increased as well, six kiwis to six lessons. Not even counting, the future doctor kept digesting food and knowledge, neither time nor people walking around of importance to him. Ryousuke, being consumed in something, ignored this or these who happened to pass by, as a rule. Today, however, one member of the prominent family made him deflect his attention, as she was utterly stunned by contemplating what the table has turned into.

"Ryousuke, dear, what's the matter with you?"  
Half-heartedly the addressed raised his head from the book and found kaa-san turn quite pale, voice filled with worried intonations.  
"Reading," he licked his lips, savoring a scrumptious aftertaste of the rich fruit. "On eucaryotic cell, to be precise."

He dropped his eyes as soon as he dropped the last bit of the sweetness into his mouth, triggering another gasp from the appalled woman,

"What? What are you saying?"

He guessed, she didn't understand him, and clarified,

"Ahh... homologous chromosomes, carrying allelic genes, form - "

"What?"

" - linkage group. The number of linkage groups is equal to the haploid number of chromosomes," he finished

"Ryousuke, are you alright?"

He looked up again at her face, while the woman was desperately trying to figure out what was wrong with her son, and followed the trajectory of a horrified gaze of hers. Suddenly, he realized what she saw so uncommon about his behavior. At the same instant he regarded the situation uneasy, knowing he had lost control - something really untypical of him - and wrote it off on his headache. Damn. Aware that kaa-san was demanding at times, he foresaw he would have to explain himself and he'd better be wise and think two steps ahead lest he should make a mistake, which would cost him dearly. Luckily, mother was not as nosy as the head Takahashi.

With a vague smile, having recovered from a sort of oblivion, the son said, choosing most delicate words,

"I'm sorry. I must have lost myself in studying and - "

"And lost count to the number of eaten kiwi fruit? Look! You've put away near 2 kilos!" her petrified look never slipped off. "I'm not blaming you but... watch your stomach, honey. Are you feeling OK? You've been acting really strange - "

"I'm fine," he interrupted with a yet-visible smile as a sign of shame, so he hurried to clean the table from a huge mount of brown and green peelings remaining from his abundant repast.

How foolish of a rational person to give himself away like this! From this point onward, he'll have to be more attentive to his actions and words. First his father, now his mother started to notice queerness about him. 'Secrets are hard to keep, even in a locked chest. It's just the same with my brother,' he sighed and headed for his room, leaving kaa-san still stunned. 'What's going on with him, after all? Can it be that incident between us or rebounds of the past or perhaps it's because of that boy... No-no.'

He preferred to stop at that, quitting brooding in favor of reading, "Laws of heredity" next on the list.

Grousing upstairs seemed to grow louder, and by now it has turned into half-growling - such sounds, coming from Keisuke's room, signaling about said guy's mental torture. Feeling one hundred per cent guilty, plus owing to in-born impulsivity resulted in his beast-like conduct, causing the family to stay away from the younger's abode. None of them knew how long the period of aggression was going to last, no one eager to enter the place and solace the sufferer, not even the main Takahashi. Although a professional doctor, a wise and experienced man, he had given up hope for this of his sons, paying attention to Ryousuke and leaving Keisuke to be the apple of her eye. Ryousuke has been chosen as his favorite son, while Keisuke was labeled as "not mine", as father called him. The blond, however, had long ago reconciled with the lot, he was at least supported by kaa-san, such a score quite understandable. Who would like a son like him? No good man sane and sober would want to have such a bastard of a child. Sometimes the guy himself would resent at his character. How much better Ryousuke was...

Lying flat in an untidy bed, hitting an innocent pillow with angry fists (if brother was there he would most likely wonder why Keisuke decided to dust it in such a weird way, and chuckle), his head was buried in another pillow, pride releasing through his mouth in the form of ugly cuss words and name-calling. Halcyon days were obviously over for him. For the last days he's had enough. Damned Saturday, it ruined his plans and now, barely on speaking terms with his brother, he felt sick, almost pinned down. No one kept him there by force, all doors open and keys in his pocket, he was free to take off anywhere anytime, but he found no special need to go out to have a bite or drop in a club to while away the night there, clinging to 'Heineken' after 'Heineken' and to be frank, recently he has abandoned his barophilia, as Ryousuke called it. Such a 180 degree turn in Keisuke's habits proved a rattler both for his acquaintances and the family. Maybe he's grown out of it all of a sudden, this he will have to check out. Not surprising, that the guy wasn't going to let his hair down after all shocks of the past week, and now that Monday morning sun rose, he was determined to start a new life, only there was a big problem - what for? Why start afresh, why turn a page and begin from scratch? His restive mind contrived billion questions and ideas - why should he change anything if all had been spoiled until there was no way back, a total collapse of brilliant plans. On the other hand, the proverbs said 'There is always an exit' and 'The one who seeks will always find'. He had let his dear one down, failed to answer Ryousuke's hopes, hereby cutting the way to aniki's love. What else was left? The same noose above waited, measurably swinging from side to side. Keisuke felt like wreck, like anyone who has made a mess of a business.

Grouching from the younger's room vivified parents who have become overly worried about their two sons, both locked up upstairs since Saturday night, one seeming suspicious after having gulped the whole bowl of fruit, the other one even more suspicious as he sulked without rhyme or reason.

"Sometimes it occurs to me that he was adopted," the eldest Takahashi noted in an unemotional manner.

His wife, sitting across from him at the dining table, responded,

"Sometimes I, too, think he was adopted."

They spoke about their children, either of them meaning the other's favorite, the man implied Keisuke and the woman - Ryousuke. The hint was not lost upon them, years of living together couldn't but lead to understanding on a subconscious level.

Ten minutes later the house lapsed into silence, not a tick-tock, not a creak, not an odd sound, not a guest to ring, all deadly still inside the great mansion. By five, when 27 lessons were crammed in one room and the poor pillow turned into a miserably-looking item in the other, the two guys found nothing to do, Ryousuke's migraine thankfully over, Keisuke's agony faded because of lack of physical strength. Yet, recollections about the last few days lingered within their heads and, being brothers, each of them decided to have a talk with the other, even though the perspective was unpleasant. The simultaneous conclusion, however, was not that quickly made because, just like the morbid memories, the two hesitated. Ryousuke had to create smart phrases, as ever, Keisuke learning to retain his cool, which he's got used to losing somehow. How he wanted to be accepted by him, but the more attempts the further he got from the goal, as if they were placed in two squares glued together, and while the blond stayed in one, his elder rested in the second, so they were close and unreachable at the same time.

The FD keys dangled joyously as soon as the driver fought back uncertainty. Feeling like going for a ride, feeling like smoking, feeling like drinking... not among his current wishes. 'Not until we talk,' he took out the keys only to put them back at once, since they badly reminded him of a recent misfortune. One day aniki warned, "We don't discuss anything apart from driving", but now Keisuke doubted aniki would want to discuss even this topic as he seemed extremely displeased with him. Besides this, crazy fans were problem number two as he presumed the orderly rows would grow considerably smaller after the news about his defeat leaked into the masses. He did care about his reputation, about what public thought about him (and his brother), so when it came to thinking about mad chicks' reaction, he felt a chill run along his spine. He didn't give a damn for the strangers' opinion since they were unaware of the reasons for his loss, but losing favor among friends meant saying goodbye to most of them, and that he didn't want to happen. Keisuke was apparently on a pessimistic side today, and although he needn't have worried, the sad guy barely believed in a bright future. What he shouldn't have done was act that arrogant, smug and toplofty in front of Ryousuke. Why can't he be like him?

Said guy meanwhile gave himself a once-over in the mirror, gently brushing his pale fingers across the chest - ointment has helped, marks almost healed, yet there remained some reminiscences of the naughty night which stretched in a colorful Northern-lights-like line before his half-lidded eyes as he rubbed a little more creamy substance over the scratches, cool salve had him shudder, goosebumps covering ever-so sensitive skin at once. The process of healing would go a lot faster if his skin was not so thin, Ryousuke meditated. He didn't really like some parts of his body, just like an average person, and although many people found him as immaculate as a person can only be, he had his own point of view. His skin seemed completely normal and well-functioning, but the Takahashi wished these natural clothes were a tad thicker, a bit more tanned, like Keisuke's, which looked way different, so smooth, even silky...

A sound at the door quickly broke the elder's musing as one spiky-haired head peeked through it after two traditional "I'm-coming-in" knocks.

Ryousuke straightened, watching the sibling come up with an apologetic look and stand mere centimeters from him, Ryousuke's back turned to Keisuke as he made no move, his gaze intent, following the other's actions through the mirror. The reflection caught Keisuke lean close to the FC driver's neck and then tickle soft hairs there with quiet yet incredibly salacious breathing while Ryousuke got glued to the floor, hands somewhat numb.

"Aniki," even a hotter whisper caressed his ear. "Forgive me."

The mirror wasn't telling lies but the man refused to believe - was Keisuke doing it to him again or was he dreaming? In a low and becalmed tone he forced out, not taking his eyes of the amalgamated object before him,

"Keisuke..." a swallow. "You've been outrun. You have officially lost, and to whom! Something I can't simply put up with. No one forced you to talk. Why brag in my presence? Furthermore," he paused meaningfully. "I've taken an eye to that boy, he must have more potential than somebody who's standing right behind me now. You are pitiful."


	9. This Awesome Rattletrap

_**Chapter IX. This Awesome Rattletrap**_

Both brothers' memories rushed into the past in rewind, mirror reflecting two moveless figures wth fixed gazes, two sculptures seeming dead, ideal sitters for an artist. Seconds passed, bringing in the images from the Saturday night, no word dropped, in silence they were living through what they have been trying to erase for two days.

Keisuke hardly ever suffered a flood of emotions close to this, in a violent rutheless rockslide feelings overwhelmed him, thoughts mingling, as he mentally returned to the moment when the one they had been expecting exited the vehicle, a usual Trueno it seemed. He forgot to breathe as he set his eyes on the driver. He furrowed his eyebrows as uneasiness crept over him, and he sized up the competetor with chill crawling up his spine in a slow unpleasant motion, the chill that little by little transformed into a cold sweat, then descending along his back, such a nasty feeling suddenly registered by Keisuke's brain, all it looked like he was seeing a ghost. As though remembering to take a breath, the blond realized the main reason for the fear, yet, like on many other occasions, the sensitive guy stuffed deeper the mere idea of it. Immediate aversion, disgust, hate boiling within him as the want to reckon with the hachi-roku devil got sterner. A glance to the right, where Ryousuke was standing, might ruin the shivery set-up, so he refrained from looking at his brother, whose eyes could tell him so much, and Keisuke was afraid to look into them, so he stood still. From time to time he found himself weak, unable to resist tempatations, especially when the situation had something to do with the elder. What was it? Was he scared to lose aniki or what? Ludicrous, that's how it sounded, yet, there was a grain of truth in it, no denying, he was afraid to lose the dear one, all the more so because Ryousuke was... a secret crush? Now standing next to him, he prayed lest anyone should see him shaking from head to foot, and this shitty AE hachi-roku, ah, he wished it would never appear.

Meanwhile said 'secret crush' stood slightly trembling too, as if contemplating a miracle, and should anyone see his aura at the moment, it would be blazing-red, since he rested in a sort of shimmering rapture at finally making a visual acquaintance with the culprit - the one Keisuke was cursing for days on end. His delight seemed endless, and even a need for a smoke dispersed as soon as he satisfied his recent strongest desire. Although calm on the outside, there was no doubt the Savanna driver was really nervous, his hands, stuck in white denims' pockets, dug into fabric, struggling to tear it apart, and it was high time he admitted – even though not aloud – he was amazed to have come across a thing like this. It felt like one of such precious moments when mind is a complete blank, eyes seeing nothing but the object of importance, one of rare instances when words turn futile, and nothing but emotions matters. With an ever-so slow exhale the man relaxed, returning from his somewhat wandering fancies back to the earth, as the incarnation of supernal loveliness and innocence looked in his direction, causing yet-discernable blush redden the cutie's soft cheeks, when Ryousuke's ever-pricked-up ears caught his name at last.

"Fujiwara Takumi."

Enough for both of them. That's too much! Keisuke near exploded at what looked to him an intimate contact of the two, simmering with anger, preparing his clenched fists, cuss words on the verge of escaping his mouth, whereas Ryousuke eagerly waited for more, his hearbeat uneven, several strands of hair stuck to a bit sweaty forehead. 'Nice exterior, sweet face, humble voice, so shy... And his driving skills… they still have to be checked. Let's see how well you drive. But all put together makes you a perfect-'

"Aniki! Look sharp!" the younger's request interrupted his musings at once, and the FD's door shut loudly when the blond sat into his car. "I'll tear him to shreds!"

But the warning meant little to Ryousuke as he was in a dreamlike state of mind again, so unnatural to him. He began to think about possibilities, where and when they might be realized, and about many other things no one except him was aware of. Such thoughts used to be buried deep inside his heart, thoughts he had carefully sealed, or at least he believed so, turning them into secrets, never ever letting anyone get close enough to uncover them, even Keisuke, who wanted it badly, and who, too, had things to hide, only in his case these mysteries were on the surface because he was not good enough at concealing them, and he revealed them on a pretty regular basis, and, oh god, sometimes they were unbearable wild uncontrollable needs he failed to resist. This time, however, Ryousuke's desires revealed as soon as he saw this-

"Monster," he enounced in just above the whisper.

Even Takahashi Ryousuke, who was perfect at staying dispassionate, could barely figure out what was going on in his head, his reputation of a thinker, a Solomon, has just ruined. Ideas mixed, making his ever-cool blood start to boil. But so far the genius had to focus on a different thing rather than yeild the suddenly-awoken desire, Keisuke's winning as his wish number one. He made sure he looked serene and composed. Being so devoured in meditation, he had missed the countdown, and revving of the two vehicles, squealing of the tires lost upon him, too, all seeming minor compared to his present speculations.

Meanwhile the otouto's state was far less peaceful. Not only his bragging was not justified, but also the whole race was going downhill, the Toyota chasing, obviously wanting to be the first to cross the line at the end. Abhorred, that was how the driver was feeling, and he hardly remembered a time when he felt that crushed, nothing in the world has ever had him so mad, while the galleries must have been making fun of him, the oh-so-unlucky Takahashi. Humiliation rooting firm inside him, as he worked out that someone else and not him was gaining his brother's love so desperately, and he was going to lose it all. How pitiful, miserable, and scared he looked, pushed by the other guy, unable to get rid of the blinding headlights of the damned car behind, and he cursed over and over. Minute after minute… The ordinary-looking Akina has turned into a hard nut to crack. It was not their home course, but the RedSunsdriver were dead certain of success, everywhere – they were unbeatable after all!

They used to be such.

Even though a skilled driver, Keisuke didn't do it this time, hairpins were the other racer's cup of tea, not his. The blond was going to lose, and wasn't the turbine that must have stopped nor a puncture, it was his fault, it was he, not the FD, who was losing. And Keisuke could almost hear whispers of people and fast-spreading rumors, and scowls and no hello's from friends as he had just stained his reputation. But most importantly, he worried about aniki, how his brother would take it, how he would treat him in the future, what he would say. A cold glare, Keisuke foreshadowed, would greet him when he exited the car at the foothills of the mountain.

Takahashi Ryousuke was surprised, to say the least, his eyes closed, as he tried to regain control, deep in-breaths of little help, body frozen, and for a moment he thpught he might have a heart attack. It looked like one had just had the laugh of him. Not his Akagi RedSuns, not the team, but he himself was buried alive, he felt blood running through vessels to his temples before they started to pound, and wet palms made him feel uncomfortable, and he shivered inwardly, unable to utter a word. He stood there, catching giggles from all sides, along with happy cries of the Speedstars who rejoiced at their victory, while his mouth got dry – he meant to congratulate them, but failed, tongue-tied all at once. He has never dared an idea anyone would beat them, and now, having fallen down from the blue skies, he shattered against the sharp unforgiving rocks, realizing how wrong he had been when thought so highly of himself. They have really made a misjudgment. A correction - he has made a misjudgement. The crew, faultless as they were, got struck by the outsome of the event as well.

What was Keisuke doing after tasting the bitterness of the first official failure, after witnessing somebody else, not himself, as a winner? He needed to go see the sibling. Ryousuke met him tired and depressed with no sign of past vanity or pride – quiet and speechless instead, leaning his forehead against his arms on the steering wheel. Knowing him well, he found it useless to start a talk on the incident. As a leader he could of course say his say, but the wiser part of a brother told him not to.

"I told them we'd have our revenge with the FC. Don't be upset," he came up to the other, tapping of his finger against the window meaning Keisuke had better listen.

Unwillingly, the FD owner left the sports car, his movements like he had run an obstacle race, legs weak, hands in his pockets, he followed aniki leading him somewhere. 'At least he's not praising the hachi-roku guy,' Keisuke snorted, relieved to hear nothing about 'that boy who defeated you', whatever his name was.

The road was clear and illuminated, and the unfortunate guy vividly recalled riding along the smooth cool surface, before he grasped what the elder had in mind, and his question filled the silence,

"Show me the place where you were outrun."

Twenty minutes later, all explanations, rather emotional as Keisuke made them, over, Ryousuke knowing the younger's mistake by that time. The blond was not going to stay still or hide feelings, and therefore poured his indignation on the object closest to him, guardrail as such as it took Keisuke's bumps and kicks, while the more rational of the brothers wondered how long this fit of passion was going to last – the blond was never good at cooling down quickly. And at this moment of fury Ryousuke was thinking about other things, particularly about somebody in the black-and-white car who had caused the whole mess. On the one hand, the elder hated the boy for what he had done to Keisuke and the team, on the other, he admired him, and in any case, he was getting interested in that driver. 'Fujiwara,' body twitching, eyes sparkling brightly at mere recalling his name.

To the second Takahashi everything about the winner was gross, even how his name sounded triggered a grimace, and Ryousuke knew about this. With his beautiful mouth closed, he mentally returned to the pre-battle hour, remembering the fluttering anticipation of an enigmatic somebody.

"After such a long time I feel like I have f a target that truly excites me."

Dumbfounded, as though in a need of checking if what was said was not a dream, the blond turned around.

He froze in an odd pose, since he was frightened; his eyes, these green eyes, reflected fear, and even seeing an apparition wouldn't affect him like this. Just like Ryousuke's once, his throat went dry, and however hard he tried to say anything, the vocal chords refused to produce sound. At that moment all he wanted was shout 'No, aniki!' yet failed, no echo heard, the same serenness of the night around.

Each of them had his own ideas on the sad event, and as a result, the trip back home passed in contemplation, the freeway almost empty with just the two Mazdas riding along it. Street lamps flicked a pale orange light, regularly, one at a second, as they passed them by, and the sight grew unbearable in monotonousness, and they yawned, giving in to fatigue. Gear-shifting, braking, steering, until reaching the familiar driveway of the mansion.

Once there, none was in a hurry to leave the confines of his vehicle. They would have to face each other, but both were unwilling to do so. The reasons for this unwillingness were different, though. Jealousy versus hurt.

'Negattemonai koto,' Keisuke sniffed, deciding to move, at last. He hasted into the house and into his bedroom, where there was no one to reproach or rebuke, the place to feel secured, safe, where even loneliness, unusual to him, always seemed fine, and hereby, after opening the front door, he cried to his brother who was still in the car,

"Just keep it in mind, you gonna fall lower than I did tonight if you have something with this hachi-roku!" he stressed "something". "It's rattletrap!"

He disappeared inside the house.

Keisuke was offended. The insult the elder had afflicted burned painfully, touching the very bottom of his soul, 'Aniki's been too cruel,' he thought. Or was it his revenge for the battle he lost? He felt like he was kicked in the gut, and Ryousuke's final phrase rang in his ears like a thousand of tiny bells, the sound piercing, deafening, and, defenseless, he began to act like a small boy who shut his ears with his hands in order to escape the horrible sound.

Ryousuke, in his turn, spent more time outside, resting in the white car of his, thinking hard. The night has brought a great deal of wonderful yet incredible things, something he couldn't even think of, and thus, he found Keisuke's reaction rather comprehensible. He didn't blame – he felt sorry for him, and so the remark thrown by the blond was quite understandable – pretty Keisuke-ish manner. The thoughts bugging him now were not about how to beat the Trueno guy (even though it was in his plans), but the thoughts a lot more titillating, having nothing to do with racing. Anyway, tonight the RedSuns leader was more pleasantly surprised than sourly disappointed, and, upon summing it up, he locked the RX, and headed towards the porch. The yet-visible moon cast a thin path of yellow light, along which the solitary man walked, like a king pacing up to his throne along the red carpet. Later in the hall, in the brightly-lit parlor, he was greeted with a glass of orange juice, delicious and refreshing, liquid lovingly poured and served by the otouto as a sigh of reconciliation. Ryousuke rejected it, this expression of sincere care. Instead, he passed Keisuke by, silent, indifferent, and at the bedroom's door, came his short comment,

"Say what you like, but rattletrap or not, I can't but admire its awesome magnificence," this said, he closed the door, and Keisuke was left alone downstairs.

A second after came a sound of glass shattered fiercely against the hardwood floor.


End file.
